


Two Harveys

by patchfire, raving_liberal



Series: Story of Three Boys [117]
Category: Glee
Genre: Award Nominees, Awards Presentation, Babies, Broadway, Harvey Milk - Freeform, M/M, Musicals, Polite non-shipping use of real life figures, Pregnancy, Surrogacy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-02
Updated: 2013-04-18
Packaged: 2017-12-07 06:40:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 51,995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/745473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/patchfire/pseuds/patchfire, https://archiveofourown.org/users/raving_liberal/pseuds/raving_liberal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A decade of work comes to fruition, a family expands by two (peas), and a reunion of familiar faces.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Nominations

**Author's Note:**

> Two playlists cover a span of time that includes that in this story cycle: [Hand in Unlovable Hand](http://storyof3boys.livejournal.com/127550.html) and [Waiting](http://storyof3boys.livejournal.com/129153.html). The true playlist for this story cycle, however, would be an original cast recording that doesn’t exist. Yet.

Waking up before eight am isn’t something that Kurt or Noah do very frequently, not since auditions started in earnest almost nine months earlier. Waking up before eight am on a Tuesday is even less common, since even the days that they get Eliza start around nine am. On this Tuesday, though, Noah has the alarm set for seven-thirty, and Kurt wakes up just before seven, lying awake and unable to get back to sleep. He hears Hannah in the shower and then the door closes behind her as she leaves, about five minutes before the alarm does go off. 

“How long have you been awake?” Noah asks through his yawn. 

“Half an hour.”

“I woke up at two-thirty,” Noah admits. “Took a Xanax. Maybe I should take another half of one before eight-thirty.”

“ _I_ might steal one,” Kurt says, and even though Kurt’s only half-joking, they both laugh. 

A few people tried to convince them to have a get-together for everyone affiliated with the show, either at their apartment or at a restaurant over breakfast, but Kurt had quickly squashed that idea. The thought of looks of pity or anger, depending on who was nominated and who wasn’t – no, Kurt doesn’t want to do any of this publicly, which is why the only person with Noah and him at eight-thirty is going to be Finn, and that is also why they’re watching the Tony award nominations announcement on the television on NY1 and not in person. 

Kurt’s sure it would be lovely to see Zachary Quinto and Audra McDonald read the nominees in person, or to congratulate anyone nominated right away, but this is what feels right, the two of them at home, waiting for Finn. They have champagne, just in case, but also whiskey, in case Irish coffee is necessary for drowning their potential sorrows. If things go well, they’ll call everyone for a celebratory lunch at Schnipper’s, because they should probably give Schnipper’s some kind of award for feeding the entire cast and crew on a regular basis. 

“Either way, we’ll know in less than an hour,” Noah says, bringing Kurt a mug of coffee and sitting on the futon. 

“There’s that,” Kurt acknowledges, shrugging and taking his coffee. “Thanks.”

Noah nods and takes a sip from his own mug. “I’m glad you put the kibosh on the get-together attempts. If I had to look at half of ’em this early in the morning, someone would get yelled at. Or I would have had to take an entire second Xanax, instead of just a half of one on top of the first. Probably both.”

Kurt laughs. “That’s the real reason theatre is at night. None of us could tolerate each other if we had to deal with each other too early in the morning.” Kurt turns as he hears Finn’s key, followed by the sound of the door opening and closing. “Morning, darling.”

“Did I miss any announcements?” Finn asks. 

“Nothing yet,” Noah answers. “The one time theatre people are punctual.”

“We’re punctual,” Kurt protests half-heartedly. “Or does that just make us exceptions proving the rule?”

“Basically.” Noah shrugs. “Come sit down and reassure us,” he says to Finn. 

“You’re gonna do fine,” Finn says, sitting down between them on the futon.

“Uh-huh,” Kurt says, taking Finn’s hand between both of his and leaning on Finn. He smiles a little when he sees Noah do the same thing on the other side of Finn. Once the television cuts to the announcements, there’s a woman who introduces Zachary Quinto and Audra McDonald. 

“Here to read the nominees for the 76th annual Tony Awards, to be held Sunday, June fifth, 2022, at Radio City Music Hall, are Audra McDonald and Zachary Quinto.”

Audra and Zachary launch right into it. The first two sets of nominations are for plays, and Kurt tunes that out entirely, waiting for Audra to get through the mouthful of 'Best Performance by an Actor in a Leading Role in a Musical' before starting to list the nominees. 

Kurt doesn’t really register who the first two nominees are, but the third one is one of the things they were hoping to hear. "Aaron Tveit, _Milk_ ," Audra reads, and there on the screens behind her, one of them changes to show Aaron's picture.

"That's one," Kurt says, exhaling a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. "We didn't get completely snubbed, at least."

“I told you it would be fine,” Finn says. “You’re gonna get all the nominations, bossofme. I swear.”

“Even for the plays?” Noah sounds like he’s trying to joke, but it doesn’t quite come out right, and Kurt feels his phone start to vibrate with messages. On the screen, Audra stumbles over reading her own name as one of the nominees for Best Performance by an Actress in a Leading Role in a Musical, for _How Stella Got Her Groove Back_. 

“You’d think they would have had Zachary Quinto read that category,” Kurt says.

“Nah, it was cute,” Finn says. “Look how cute she was!”

“Of course it was, it’s Audra McDonald,” Kurt says. “Still!” The nominations for the revivals are next, then Best Play. 

“Oh, fuck,” Noah says as they’re reading out the Best Play nominees. 

“Is the Best Musicals one up next?” Finn asks. Kurt just nods. “It’ll be fine. They’ll say _Milk_.”

"And the nominees for Best Musical. _There And Back Again_ ,” Zachary Quinto reads, and Kurt feels like there’s a definite pause before he reads the next title. " _Fenway_." Another pause. " _Turn of the Centuries_." No, Kurt decides, there’s definitely some completely unnecessary pausing that is occurring. Kurt closes his eyes, waiting for the last two to be read. “ _How Stella Got Her Groove Back_ , and _Milk_.”

“He just said _Milk_ , right?” Noah asks, and Kurt opens his eyes, staring at the screen. 

“It’s there,” Kurt manages, staring at the five screens arrayed behind Zachary and Audra. 

“See?” Finn says. “Everybody worried but me.”

Kurt half-heartedly punches Finn’s leg. “It’s not over yet. There’s still more. And we’re allowed to worry, I think.”

“Nope,” Finn insists. “You aren’t allowed to worry because I’m telling you that you’re getting nominated for, I don’t know. Everything.”

“The nominees for Best Book of a Musical,” Audra says on the television, and Kurt refrains from replying to Finn in order to hear what Audra says. This time, they don’t have to wait through an entire list, because the next thing she says is “ _Milk_ , book by Kurt Hummel and Noah Hummel.”

Noah laughs suddenly. “I just got nominated for an award involving writing. I think I should send a link to every English teacher I ever had.”

“Also your professor that first semester at Mannes,” Kurt agrees. 

“Shhhh,” Finn says. “They’re doing Best Score!”

Kurt misses the first two nominees, but he does hear “ _Milk_ , music by Noah Hummel, lyrics by Kurt Hummel,” and he stares at the television for a few seconds before blinking. 

“That’s four already. Right?”

“Yeah.” Noah nods slowly. “That’s four.”

“Everything,” Finn sing-songs. 

Kurt starts to think that Finn might, in fact, be correct, because when they start the nominations for Best Choreography, Zachary Quinto reads out “Mike Chang”, and they sit there on the futon listening as the crew of _Milk_ gets nominated for Scenic Design, Costume Design, Sound Design, and Lighting Design. 

“I should get nominated for something,” Finn muses.

“What?” Noah asks. 

“Best Supporting Person Who Fucks the Writers,” Finn suggests.

“Well, you’re the only nominee, then, at least from _Milk_ ,” Kurt says. 

“Yeah, but I bet _Fenway_ ’s got one, too,” Finn says. “They look feisty.”

“You’d still win,” Noah says. “Wait, why are you trying to see how feisty they are?”

“I wasn’t trying! I just noticed.”

“Hmm.” Noah frowns a little, then falls silent. 

“The nominees for Best Direction of a Musical are Angela McIntyre, _Milk_ ,” Audra reads, then continues.

“Well, damn, go Angela,” Noah says. “Only three women have ever won that one.” 

“What did you say Syd said, darling?” Kurt asks. “About her needing an award?”

“She said Angela should get an award every day for dealing with such a heavily male cast,” Finn says. “But you know that was a pickup line, right?”

“Well, let’s see.” Noah frowns exaggeratedly. “Angela’s a girl, and Syd was talking to her.” He nods. “Yep, probably a pickup line.”

“Your best friend’s a player, Finn,” Kurt says, giggling. 

“Somebody’s gotta get the ladies,” Finn says, shrugging.

Noah nods again. “Better her than us.”

“The nominees for Best Actor in a Featured Role in a Musical,” Zachary says on the screen, and Kurt shushes Noah and Finn, admittedly unnecessarily. One of the people from _Fenway_ is mentioned first, then Zachary reads “Jamie Robins, _Milk_. Kurt Hummel, _Milk_ ,” before naming off a hobbit actor, somebody Chris. 

“No one getting snubbed, blue eyes,” Noah says, grinning. 

“I wasn’t expecting this many,” Kurt admits. “Not for the entire musical and then this too.”

“ _Ev-er-y-thiiiing_ ,” Finn sings.

“The nominees for Best Performance by an Actress in a Featured Role in a Musical,” Audra says, and Kurt reluctantly makes himself listen. The second name is “Rachel Berry, _Milk_ ,” which finishes all of the nominations and Kurt’s lost count of how many the musical overall got. 

“Maybe if she wins, she’ll be nice for a while,” Finn offers.

“Or she’ll talk about why she should have been the only one nominated from the entire production,” Noah says with a snort. “Fourteen. Blue eyes, I think it’s champagne and not whiskey.”

Kurt giggles and stands up. “And we’re definitely having lunch.”


	2. Milk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Three thousand five hundred forty-three days from scribbled words to opening night.

As the Memorial Day weekend approaches, Kurt feels a little like he did three years prior. The third year of the Lehman Engel Workshop has been amazing, but it’s drawing to a close. Having _Small Town_ at the Triad for a respectable off-Broadway run of over a year had also been amazing, and when it went to two performances a week, Kurt had been pleased, but those end with the Sunday matinee on June sixth. Kurt isn’t sure what is coming next, more or less, and at least June and July will be busy enough, or so Kurt hopes. 

The closing performance of _Small Town_ , Pride, and Hannah’s graduation from high school, then Pensacola Beach after the Fourth; it’s not a good answer to what comes next, not long-term, but it’s something. There’s encouraging talk from some of the moderators of the Advanced Workshop, but Kurt admits he doesn’t understand the financing side of everything, and he’s more than happy to leave that part to Noah. 

Three of the moderators come to the final performance of _Small Town_ , then approach Noah while Kurt’s still changing, which means once Kurt emerges, Noah’s waiting just outside the door. “We’ve been invited to dinner,” he says under his breath. 

“Oh?” Kurt raises an eyebrow. “That’s good, I assume?”

“Yeah, but I don’t think we’re dressed for this one,” Noah admits. “We’re meeting at Gotham in forty-five minutes and I’m pretty sure that’s code for—”

“Talking business,” Kurt finishes. “So we’ve got to get home and change and get over there.”

“Yeah, basically,” Noah says. “No drinks with everyone, or at least not until a bit later.”

“Right.” Kurt grabs Noah’s hand and they walk home, moving more quickly than usual, and Kurt quickly pulls out clothes for both of them so they can change and hail a cab. If Noah’s still tying Kurt’s tie when they’re in the cab, no one that they’re meeting will know. 

Kurt still doesn’t quite understand everything as it relates to financing a musical – he knows that the average cost of a Broadway opening is in the millions, millions that they have to find someone to invest, and that is about all that he knows. What he does gather from the meal is that some of their moderators have been talking up _Milk_ , and there are some investors with at least a small amount of interest. 

“Ideally, what the two of you could do next is put together a workshop,” Robin says. “There are a number of venues that can be rented for one evening. No one would be expected to be off-book, of course, but it would give your potential backers the flavor of the work in a way that just reading the book or just listening to one or two songs can’t really give them. I know it likely seems like moving very quickly, but do you think you could pull that together by the end of the month? The last week of June, before people travel for the Fourth.”

That part, Kurt understands. Finding volunteers to perform at least a portion of _Milk_ , in front of people with a great deal of money, in an attempt to convince all of them that _Milk_ is an investment worth making. He nods slowly, exchanging a glance with Noah. 

“By venue, what do you mean?” Noah finally says. 

“Well, for instance, there are several cabaret rooms that are often available, if you aren’t trying to produce the workshop on the weekend nights,” Robin answers. 

“Would something like the Hall at 802 work?” Noah asks, and Kurt tilts his head, thinking. Noah’s already a member of the musicians’ union, so any requirement for being able to rent it should already be met. 

“Yes, exactly!” Len says, smiling. “That’s a perfect setting, in fact.”

“Okay,” Noah says slowly. “I think we can do that. Three and a half weeks to put together a rudimentary staging of an entire musical.” He laughs for a few seconds. “Is there a ‘Putting Together A Workshop for Dummies’ ebook or something?”

Len and Robin laugh, and Norman just shakes his head, which isn’t surprising; of the three of them, Norman’s always been the quietest. What is surprising is that Norman is the only one who actually answers. 

“I’ll forward you three files that I have saved for years, from three different musicals. One is from Brian Yorkey and Tom Kitt, about _Next to Normal_ , but all three should be valuable,” Norman says. “I’ll make a note right now, in fact.” He pulls out his phone, and the conversation shifts, as if Norman’s word was the indicator that business was over and the remainder of the evening is for other things. 

When they finish dinner, Kurt hails a cab and sinks into the seat, holding Noah’s hand and looking over at him with raised eyebrows. “We could still go get drinks. We probably should.”

“We can make an appearance, and leave when Finn lets us know he’s nearby?” Noah suggests, pulling out his phone. “They’re at Dive 75. Send Finn a message when we get there?”

“Yes, that’s probably the best course of action,” Kurt agrees. What he wants to do is go home and curl up with a beer there, waiting on Finn, and then figure out what exactly it is they’re attempting to do in just over three weeks, but he knows they need to celebrate with their cast and crew. More than that, they may need some of them or their connections in order to adequately cast the workshop, much less manage a crew. 

Which is how Kurt finds himself and Noah being toasted a mere ten minutes later, and a few moments later, their assistant stage manager drops onto the bar stool next to Kurt. “So what’s next for the two of you?” she asks cheerfully. 

“Funny you should ask that,” Kurt says dryly. “Lillian, do you have any major time commitments in the next three or four weeks?”

Lillian makes a face. “Why do I feel like this is a trick question?”

“You’re being wasted as an ASM,” Noah interjects from the other side of Kurt. “We know who’s really kept things flowing.”

“Now I know it’s a trick question.” Lillian eyes them suspiciously. “What’s going on?”

“Pending a location confirmation tomorrow, we’re doing a backers’ workshop of _Milk_ in just over three weeks,” Kurt answers. “Ever wanted to help organize a workshop?”

“I’m in,” Lillian says with a nod. “You need a skeleton crew, at least, what, four pit musicians? Plus the cast? And it has to be polished enough to go in three weeks?” She grins. “Piece of cake. Go home and confirm the location in the morning, and we’ll meet tomorrow afternoon.”

“If this goes anywhere, we’re hiring her as our assistant,” Kurt says as they ease off the stools and leave with a few waves. 

“Oh, definitely,” Noah agrees. “She needs to be running a theatre. Or theatres.”

“Getting ambitious?” Kurt laughs as his phone chimes with a message from Finn. “He’s almost here. Let’s go find out what he thinks.”

 

“That’s most of the parts,” Kurt says as he drops his phone onto the bed on Tuesday afternoon. “It’s good for us that Jamie and Zachary were both between roles, and then thanks to Lillian and Norman we’ve found someone for almost all of the others. But not Anne, yet, and not for Dianne Feinstein.”

“We can work around Dianne Feinstein, since we don’t have to perform all of it,” Puck says, then stops and looks at Finn. “So, darling, I hate to ask this question, for all of our sakes’, but how do you think Rachel would feel about stepping in for the workshop?”

Finn exhales a puff of air and tries not to grimace. “Are you sure you want that?”

“No,” Puck says. “But she’s not in anything right now, we need someone who can learn the material, and honestly, someone who’s going to be a little bit invested in it.”

“Well,” Finn says, “she’s professional. When she’s here, at least, it shouldn’t be like it is when we have to do family shit. She’ll do a good job, but guys. This is your awesome special musical you’ve been working on since high school. I don’t want anything to mess it up.”

“We know she can be off-book by the end of the month,” Kurt says, leaning his head on Finn’s shoulder. “We need that. We need as many people as possible off-book and able to do simple choreography, and frankly, with the exception of Zachary and Jamie and a few of the chorus members, everyone else on this list is an unknown to us.”

“Better the devil we know than the one we don’t.” Puck shrugs. “At least we know the kind of drama Rachel provides. We’ll have water and honey and all that herbal tea shit stocked.”

“You want to call and ask her?” Finn says. “Or do you want me to talk to her?”

“I’ll call,” Puck says, a little reluctantly. “Keep it professional and all that. You two want to listen, though?” Kurt shrugs and nods, then looks at Finn with an eyebrow raised.

Finn would just as soon not, but he shrugs, too, and says, “Sure.”

Puck pulls out his phone and calls Rachel, putting the speaker on just before Rachel answers with a pleasant-enough “Hello, Noah.”

“Hey, Rachel,” Puck says. “What are you doing between now and the end of the month?”

“Well, I’m waiting to hear about a couple of auditions, and of course—” Rachel cuts herself off. “Noah?”

“Kurt and I were wondering if you wanted to be the first to officially portray Anne Kronenberg,” Puck says. “It’s a hell of a rehearsal schedule. No guarantees.”

“Are you serious?” Rachel demands. “Noah— are you sure? I’d be honored, of course, but I don’t want this as a result of any special treatment.” She sounds like she thinks it is probably special treatment, and that she’s actually just fine with that. 

“You’ll be off-book and know the choreography,” Puck answers her. “That’s what we need. So. We can add you to the list? Lillian’ll send you the schedule and everything.”

“Yes. This is a backers’ workshop, right?” Rachel asks. “You have a production company interested?”

“Yeah, we just need the money,” Puck says. “Thanks, Rachel. Later.” He ends the call before Rachel can respond. “Well, there’s that, then.”

“Already sent Lillian a message,” Kurt responds.

“So I’m probably not hanging out at the workshop,” Finn says. 

“You’d probably be a distraction. A very nice distraction, but a distraction nonetheless,” Kurt says, tilting his head up and smirking. 

“Now blue eyes, how could you say such a clearly true thing?” Puck snorts.

“That’s it,” Finn says. “My feelings are hurt. Now I’m leaving.”

“You were leaving in three minutes anyway,” Puck says dryly. “We’ll make it up to you.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Finn replies, waving his hand at Puck. “So you say.”

“Oh, now you’ve done it,” Kurt says cheerfully. “At least I’ll have fun.” He wraps his arm around Finn’s neck and pulls him into a kiss. “Be good, darling.”

“You heard the man.” Puck shrugs and kisses Finn. “Be good.”

“I’m always good,” Finn says. “Call me later. Or if you find money.”

“On the street,” Puck says. “We always do.”

Finn laughs and heads out the door. Once he’s walked a half a block, he pulls out his phone and calls Syd.

“Sup, Hudson?” Syd answers. 

“So, is there a way to give someone money without anyone knowing about it?” Finn asks. 

“Are we talking charitable contribution or what, exactly?” Syd says, her voice changing to a more business-like tone. 

“Uh… I don’t know, exactly. I don’t think it’s charitable,” Finn says. “I want to give some money to get _Milk_ produced. Not actual milk. _Milk_ that’s Puck and Kurt’s musical.”

“Investing, then. Well, there’s nothing wrong with investing in a nice Wisconsin dairy farm, Finn.” Syd stops and laughs before continuing. “I think you want to form an investment group of some kind, that would officially be the contributor. And we could bury the owner of the so-called group under layers of paperwork. Not impossible to find out, but not something that Kurt or Noah would spend time doing.”

“Kurt definitely wouldn’t, at least,” Finn says. “We’ll put some numbers in the name of the group and he won’t look past the front sheet of the paperwork.”

“Oh, you think he’d get that far?” Syd says skeptically. “But yeah, you can do that. Is this just you? You need a name for the group.”

“I’m gonna talk to Victor. He liked _Small Town_. He saw it three or four times.”

“Not as many as you did. Okay. I’ll start a couple of balls rolling and you tell me what the name is.”

“Cool! Thanks, Syd,” Finn says. “Oh, and they’re having Rachel do the workshop, so…”

“Ahh.” Syd pauses. “Well, at least there won’t be World War Three or Four with the extended family, then.”

“Yeah, everybody’ll be happy,” Finn sighs. “Ok, Syd. I’m gonna talk to some people, and then I’ll call you back.”

“Okay, Finn. Keep me posted. See you for lunch Thursday still?”

“Definitely!” Finn says. “Talk to you later.” He ends the call and looks at his phone for just a few seconds before scrolling to Victor’s number and calling him.

“Hey, man,” Victor answers. “What’s going on?”

“So, Victor. How do you feel about investing in Broadway?”

 

Three weeks and three days isn’t enough time to pull together a backers’ workshop, in Kurt’s opinion, but he’s not sure there would ever have been long enough. They’re performing the opening number, three numbers from the end of the first act, and a selection of scenes from the second act, and hoping that it’s enough to give the attendees a good sense of the overall musical. 

“Is anyone actually here?” Kurt asks Noah. “The people that we need to be here, I mean?”

“Yeah, there’s people here.” Noah leans against the wall and pulls Kurt against him. “We’re playing to a full house, or close enough.” 

“Finn’s here?” Kurt asks, closing his eyes and resting against Noah. 

“Yeah. Sent a message. ‘Break a leg but not actually break a leg’. We’re not allowed to really break things.”

“I have done that once.” Kurt shrugs. “Not something I wanted to repeat, anyway. Okay. Time to impress.”

“And we will.” Noah gives Kurt a kiss, and while they’re still kissing, Kurt hears Jamie whistle. “Fuck off, we hired you,” Noah says jokingly as he and Kurt pull apart. 

“And we’re paying too,” Kurt says, shaking his head. “Handy that there’s not much of a salary.” 

The performance goes slightly better than Kurt had expected. Almost everyone is off-book, no one trips during the choreography, and the music and their voices are all in the right key at the right times. When they take a brief curtain call, Kurt can tell that Finn is the first one to stand as he claps. Most of the assembled audience either stands or seems enthusiastic, and Kurt collapses into a chair as soon as he’s backstage with the stage makeup off. 

“Networking and hobnobbing’s not over, K,” Noah says, sitting beside him. 

“Oh, I didn’t think it was.” Kurt shakes his head and stands. “Where are we headed?”

“That restaurant in the hotel with the funny name.”

“The Lambs Club in the Chatwal?” Kurt asks. 

“Yeah, see, you knew it.” Noah grins. “Let’s go find Finn now, though.”

Finn, Victor, and a friend of Victor’s are all standing in the mostly-empty lobby waiting, and they approach Finn from behind. “Hello,” Kurt says. “Enjoy the show?”

Finn wraps both arms around Kurt and picks him up off the ground as he hugs him. “It was so good, you guys!”

“The right kind of good, we hope,” Noah says wryly. “You hear anything?”

“Everybody loved it,” Finn says, setting Kurt back down and grabbing Noah into a bearhug. “Everybody thought it was great.”

“You’d say that anyway,” Kurt points out. “Not that we don’t appreciate the vote of confidence, but you’re hardly a reliable reporter, d—” Kurt cuts himself off, because while all three of them are quite sure Victor knows, Kurt’s not sure who the man with Victor even is.

“He’s got you there,” Noah says quickly. 

“I’d never lie to you!” Finn insists. 

“Of course not, but you have to admit you are somewhat biased,” Kurt says.

Victor turns to Finn, laughing. “I think your brother might be right, Hudson.” 

 

It takes more than a month, including four different phone calls while they’re at Pensacola Beach. There’s a list of investors that includes at least one investment group that Noah can’t remember having heard of before—EightySevenEleven, LLC—and the total amount invested adds up to more than Noah would ever estimate, but the production company insists it’s good to pad the amount a little. And on the first Monday in August, Noah takes his lunch break at eight forty-five, meeting Kurt at the apartment on his equally early lunch break, so they can refresh the Actors’ Equity Association website waiting for the audition posting to appear.

“There it is,” Noah says when it pops up just after nine am. “ _Milk_ , seeking Equity performers for world premiere musical. Do we feel important?”

“Vaguely stunned and almost ill, actually,” Kurt confesses. “What if no one shows up to audition? We’ll be the first musical to fold before rehearsals because no one wants to put on costumes from the 1970s.”

“That’s probably not going to be an issue. Remember how you and Zachary went to audition for that musical set in seventeen-whatever? Those costumes were definitely worse.”

“Oh, yes.” Kurt purses his lips. “That’s the one that folded two weeks after opening, wasn’t it? So it was really a good thing they didn’t pick either Zachary or I.” Kurt nods once. “Okay. I suppose we’ll just see how the auditions go.”

“That’s generally the idea, yeah.” Noah laughs. “But I think you’re a shoo-in.”

Kurt snorts. “I certainly hope so. Still, we have to go through the motions.”

“Walking through the part?” Noah deadpans.

“I am _not_ a vampire slayer.”

The auditions span nearly two weeks, between all the principal parts and the need for the chorus parts. The production company, Noah, and Kurt sit down at the beginning of the audition period and send specific invitations to a few big names for a few of the big parts, and a few of them actually do attend auditions on the specified days. The only day out of the two weeks that Kurt isn’t sitting beside Noah in the audition room is the day they run auditions for Cleve; after Kurt’s audition, Noah raises an eyebrow at the rest of them. “That was just a formality.”

Kurt’s last day at the shop was the day before auditions began; Noah puts in for an extended leave of absence, not quite ready to leave the security of the job he’s had for over ten years behind. After the auditions conclude, though, and some casting decisions are made, and some callback notices are sent out, he sits down and actually types out a letter of resignation. It’s a weird feeling, giving up that sense of a back-up plan, the benefits, and everything. He’s been actually good at the job, keeping it up even when _Small Town_ had a full run and Kurt cut back on his own hours. He had never anticipated being at Starbucks for so long, not when he first walked in and was offered a job, and not even when he decided to take it. But he’s been working there for years now, and a part of him is going to miss waking up to open the store five days a week.

“Maybe I should send a copy to Ms. Horatio,” Noah jokes when he prints it out and puts in an actual envelope, to give to the store manager. The truly funny part is that Noah ends up having to print it on Starbucks letterhead and put it into a Starbucks envelope, so he does print out a second copy and mail it to Ms. Horatio, care of the Lima store, along with another shorter note just to her.

Still, before the first contracts are sent out, Noah is no longer an employee of Starbucks, and while the Tuesday after Labor Day doesn’t feel that odd, the next day feels really weird. They’re waiting on contracts to be signed and returned, the rehearsals haven’t started yet, and even though rationally Noah knows it’s not the case, he basically feels unemployed. It’s a very strange way to start the fall: Hannah in culinary school and not high school, no classes or workshop of their own, just a strange sense of waiting and a totally different schedule than the one they’ve kept for years. 

 

Rehearsal starts at ten each morning; that’s the agreed upon schedule. In accordance with Equity rules, they can rehearse for eight hours out of the following nine and a half, and they will have two days per week rehearsal-free. They’re not done for the evening until seven-thirty, but they have breaks and that’s early for most performers; the rehearsal schedule won’t last long.

On the first day of rehearsals, Kurt wakes up at six. He listens to Hannah get up and shower, and he hears her making breakfast. He gets out of bed two hours before he needs to, dragging Noah with him, and they’re at the Nederlander forty-five minutes early.

Luckily, someone’s there to let them in, and Kurt and Noah walk slowly through the lobby, hand in hand, then through the alley to the backstage area.

“Feel real yet?” Noah murmurs as they pass by the dressing rooms.

“No.” Kurt shakes his head. “I’m telling myself maybe by the dress rehearsal.”

“Or the previews, or opening night,” Noah says jokingly. “It may never feel real.”

“I’m starting to suspect that’s actually the case.” Kurt shakes his head and they stop at the pit entrance. “Small. Glad you aren’t playing in there?”

“Yeah, but I’m going to make sure I am for the cast recording.” Noah grins. “As many parts as possible.” 

“Oh, that I assumed.” Kurt releases Noah’s hand and slides his arm around Noah as they emerge on the stage. “Books and everything,” Kurt comments on the table set up just off-stage. “Read-through on this poor bare stage, just waiting for a set.”

“And that’s why our days are longer than just rehearsals,” Noah points out. “Starting tomorrow, we have all kinds of meetings about set design and costume design and all other kinds of design.”

“Right. At least we’re able to be producers along with the actual production company.” It wasn’t a common arrangement, but it wasn’t unheard of, either. “After this long—”

“We definitely have opinions,” Noah agrees.

Kurt picks up his official copy of the book and sits down with a glass of water in front of him. No singing, at least not for the first few hours, and even though they watched _Small Town_ take shape, it seems more daunting with _Milk_. _Small Town_ was, in the end, their school project, their expected step along the way, their way to pay their dues. _Milk_ is what they’ve actually been waiting for and working toward, and Kurt almost holds his breath as the cast slowly arrives. In the end, they were lucky enough to get some big names for some of the roles, and neither Kurt nor Noah have officially been introduced to them.

Their Harvey is one of the first to show up, and the very first of the other principals. “You two must be the Hummels,” he says, approaching with a smile and offering his hand. “Aaron Tveit. This is a great project, from what I’ve read so far. I’m excited.”

“Kurt,” Kurt answers, taking Aaron’s hand. “And thank you. We were thrilled you’d signed on.” Kurt releases Aaron’s hand, and Aaron turns towards Noah, taking his hand.

“Noah. Like Kurt said, we were pretty excited ourselves,” Noah admits. “Everything’s been feeling a little surreal since June, though.”

Aaron laughs good-naturedly. “I can’t actually imagine. But I’ll do my best to make sure we keep making things even more surreal for the two of you.”

Kurt can’t help feeling proprietary as everyone arrives: Zachary and Jamie in their workshop roles as Scott and Jack, respectively, and in the end, Rachel wound up winning the role of Anne fair and square. The young black man just out of Steinhardt’s undergraduate program, Leslie, was going to make a fantastic Danny Nicoletta; the two relatively unknown performers portraying Dick and Jim are equally impressive. A pair of adorable teenage girls had been cast as Medora Payne, plus a varied and impressive chorus that met their requirements in terms of diversity. They hadn’t spent a significant amount of time researching the exact demographics for each year of the 1970s in San Francisco, and specifically in the Castro, but they knew enough to insist on an actual representation of black and Asian actors.

Aaron playing Harvey is huge, and as the other three big names enter, Kurt smiles to himself. Idina Menzel as Dianne Feinstein, Will Chase as George Moscone, and Andrew Rannells as Dan White. He’s not really sure how they had scored such a cast, but it’s a great cast, and he watches everyone shake hands, introducing themselves or getting reacquainted. Rachel breezes in four minutes after ten, which might fly on any other day, but on the first day, she’s the last one there.

“Oh, I’m so sorry I’m late,” Rachel says loudly. “Kurt, Noah, I do apologize, but of course you know how things are with Eliza, and—”

“Eliza’s at preschool, Rachel,” Noah interrupts her. “We know that.” He looks over at Kurt and Kurt nods minutely. They had assumed that Rachel might try to use her ‘personal connections’ in some way, primarily to assert that she has them; Kurt and Noah had decided to cut them off immediately.

“Well!” Rachel splutters for a moment. “That’s true, but—”

“Plenty of performers have children,” a voice interrupts. “Angela McIntyre, your director. Everyone take a seat, grab your copies if you haven’t, and avail yourself of the water. Let’s start this read-through.”

 

“Don’t tell Nana what’s on my plate,” Noah says as he returns from the buffet and sits down across from Finn. “If she hears there was shrimp and pork being eaten, we’re going to say it was Kurt.”

“Because I’d totally get both of us in trouble with Nana by telling her I let you eat that stuff,” Finn says, shaking his head. 

“And Kurt would just smile a little and Nana’d be fine,” Noah says with a laugh. “I’m pretty sure Kurt could get murder charges dropped.”

“Keeping that in mind,” Finn says quietly as Kurt approaches the table.

“Who minds what?” Kurt asks, sitting down with his plate. 

“Oh, nothing.” Noah grins. “We should take Finn by to see the outside.”

“What’s outside?” Finn asks.

“Of the theatre,” Kurt explains. “They had it decorated to resemble a nightclub when _Rent_ was running there.”

“Nothing really exciting for _Newsies_ ,” Noah interjects. “But since the Castro was so distinctive, well. You’ll have to see it.”

Finn nods his head thoughtfully while he chews. “Are they keeping it covered up until then or something?”

“Nah, it was just one of the last things, but with previews starting.” Noah shrugs. “It’s almost done now. I still think the big rainbow flag would be perfect.”

Kurt shakes his head. “It probably would be, but that at least we can save for the official opening, don’t you think?”

“You and that flag,” Finn says. “I swear.”

“It’s a nice flag!” Noah protests. “Anyway, at least we’re not boring on the outside.”

“Yes, baby. We know. It gives you great satisfaction that not only did _Newsies_ finally close, but that we ended up being the very next show following,” Kurt says patiently. 

“And you’re washing the Menken smell out of the corners of the theatre,” Finn adds. “We know, ’cause you keep telling us.”

“I haven’t said it that much.” Noah frowns. “You’re exaggerating.”

“You have. In those exact words,” Finn says, pointing at Noah with a fork.

“Not exaggerating,” Kurt adds, shrugging a little. “He wanted to let Ennis visit the theatre over the weekend,” Kurt says to Finn. “I told him Ennis was a little old to relocate regularly, but I’m starting to think he wanted Ennis to mark his territory in the alley.”

“Poor old Ennis,” Finn says. “He’s too old to traumatize like that.”

“He would have liked a little variety. You know the girls would have brought him leftovers.” Noah shakes his head sadly, because the two girls that share Medora really would have spoiled Ennis nicely. “We should get him some shrimp.”

“You can ask for the to-go box for the cat,” Kurt answers. 

“Kitty box. It’s like a doggie bag,” Finn says.

“They might think I mean a litter box, though. That could get weird.” Noah shrugs. “C’mon, we should show you the theatre and then get out of here while we’ve all got time.” 

 

Finn’s tuxedo is one of only two black suits he owns, versus a probably excessive array of suits in various shades of grey, and that’s what he’s wearing as he stands in the lobby of the Nederlander with a glass of champagne in his hand. When Finn got to the theatre earlier, Puck tied Finn’s tie, and Finn could tell that Puck had taken at least one Xanax, probably two. The two of them stand along a side wall and watch Kurt do what he does best, which is make everybody realize that he’s the best person they’ll ever talk to. Puck calls it schmoozing, but Finn thinks it’s more like converting everybody attending the pre-premiere reception to the Church of Worshiping Kurt Hummel. 

Finn nudges Puck with his elbow and nods his head in Kurt’s direction. “Who’s that guy Kurt’s talking to?”

“The bald one’s with one of the other big production companies. I can’t remember his name. The other one’s Nathan, or the guy that everyone calls for more money for their section of the budget,” Puck says, grinning a little. “At least the expenses for the musicians were more or less fixed by union contract.”

“And who’s that lady with the hat?”

“That’s the actual Medora Payne. We invited the real Anne too, but I haven’t seen her in a little while. They’ve got seats with Cleve. It feels weird to call them by their first name, but we’ve been referring to them for so long.” Puck’s talking just a little too fast, though most people probably wouldn’t notice. 

“I bet Rachel’s got real Anne cornered somewhere,” Finn jokes. “You’ll have to call the Fire Marshall or something.”

“Luckily for the real Anne, it takes forever for Rachel to get that wig on.” Puck laughs. “She’ll have to go backstage before anyone else.”

“Did you ever end up telling Idina that you guys had met her before, forever ago?” Finn asks. He’s asked either Kurt or Puck this question at least five times, but Puck seems like he really needs distracted, so that’s a good topic to veer him towards. 

“Oh, yeah, we did,” Puck says, nodding. “She told us she was going to start taking credit for our success if people asked, that she was partially responsible for our.” Puck stops. “How’d she say it? Our persistent attitude and pursuit of success, by giving us a taste of it.”

“She’s still pretty hot, but she doesn’t really look that much like Shelby anymore,” Finn says.

“I showed Shelby a picture of her, actually, and Shelby said she’d like to look that good.” Puck makes a face. “I think that was supposed to be our cue to assure her she looked better, but Beth interrupted and we totally flubbed it.”

“So, I was thinking about swiping Rachel’s wig,” Finn says. “I might wear it to my meetings with my advisor. I think it would give her a better opinion of my progress on my dissertation. Whatcha think?”

Puck laughs. “As long as it’s back here in time for the performances, why not?”

“I think the curls give me a look of professionalism,” Finn says. “Who’s Kurt talking to now?”

“That’s Dustin Lance Black. He’s the guy that wrote the screenplay for the movie _Milk_. He’s written some plays, too. They’re probably discussing word choices or something writer-ish.”

Finn drapes one of his arms across Puck’s shoulders. “This is pretty awesome, dude. You guys did good.”

“Let’s hope the guy from the _Times_ and the woman from that website agree with you.” Puck leans against Finn. “I tried to convince everyone I should play in the pit tonight, to give me something to do, but I didn’t succeed.”

“Bossofus said no, huh?”

Puck laughs and his arm goes around Finn as he nods. “Yep.”

After a while, the cast goes backstage and some less-than-VIP people start arriving, so Finn and Puck go find their seats. Even with the Xanax, Puck still seems like he’s about to jump out of his seat, or possibly even his skin, so Finn takes one of Puck’s hands between both of his.

“Dude. Seriously. It’s going to be _awesome_ , ok?” Finn says. 

“Promises, promises,” Puck says lightly, but after a few more seconds, he leans his head on Finn’s shoulder, and when Finn looks at Puck, his eyes are closed. 

“You have to open your eyes when the show starts,” Finn whispers to him. “People’ll notice if you sleep through your own premiere.”

“Nah, you’d make sure they didn’t,” Puck says quietly. “And I think I know it well-enough by now.”

The music starts and Finn rests his head against Puck’s as the house lights go down. They watch Harvey arriving in San Francisco, and Harvey and Scott singing “San Francisco” together. When Kurt’s solo finally happens, Finn whispers, “He sounds better than at the previews.”

Puck nods. “Helped having more than one night off this week. Won’t be able to take Thanksgiving next year. Hopefully, anyway.”

As the last song of the first act starts, Finn looks around the theatre and watches the faces, trying to gauge reactions. Once he’s determined everybody looks suitably awed and impressed, he turns back around and settles down in his seat again to watch the whole cast singing about bursting down the closet doors, and standing up and starting to fight. The song ends, and the audience starts applauding, and Finn squeezes Puck’s hand. 

“See?” Finn says quietly. “Just like I said. Awesome.”

 

Kurt’s least favorite portion of the entire musical is the duet that Cleve has with Anne. Not because he’s unhappy with how the song ended up, but because he has to sing with Rachel, and most days that’s the last thing he wants to do. It requires, at times, every bit of acting ability that he possesses, but at the opening night performance, the song goes beautifully, and Kurt lets himself relax a bit as the remainder of the second act plays out. 

The applause is thunderous and admittedly gratifying as the show concludes, and the entire cast prepares for the curtain call. The chorus runs out first, and Kurt listens to the crowd as their Danny, Jim, Dick, and Medora go next. The three that they’ve taken to calling ‘the electeds’ follow, and while George Moscone and Dianne Feinstein were and are popular in their own right, Kurt is equally sure that the real Dan White never received such approbation. 

After that, it’s his turn, along with Rachel, and when they step to the front of the stage, Kurt gestures at the real Anne, sitting next to the real Cleve, for the two of them to stand. The applause grows more intense and there’s a gentle roar of approval for the pair. Then Kurt and Rachel step back for Zachary and Jamie to take their own bows, before the entire cast parts for Aaron. The audience noise gets louder than Kurt expected, and as they all take a bow, the audience rises to its feet, and Kurt feels like he’s going to start screaming and faint, possibly at the exact same time. 

When the curtain goes down at last, Kurt lets himself get herded towards the dressing rooms with the rest of the cast, then sits down in the room that he, Zachary, and Jamie share. Kurt registers Jamie and Zachary talking as they all change, but he feels almost detached. They finish before him, which means he’s alone in the room when Noah and Finn reach it. 

“Holy shit, blue eyes,” Noah says, grabbing him, and Kurt lets himself relax against him, reaching for Finn with one hand. Finn engulfs both Kurt and Noah in his arms. 

“I gathered they liked it from the applause,” Kurt says. “But you were out there? They did?”

“We’re stunning, apparently,” Noah agrees. “Darling? What’d you hear?”

“The women behind us were sobbing,” Finn says. “One of them said it was the most moving thing she’s seen on Broadway in years.”

“That’s not too surprising, considering some of the crap we’ve seen on Broadway ourselves,” Noah says, and Kurt lets out a snort. 

“I know, I know, baby.” Kurt takes a deep breath. “So. Onwards to the party, then. We’ll walk?”

“It’s not too far,” Noah agrees. “I have the directions, and the production company got us a room at the hotel the place is at, so we ‘don’t have to worry’ about getting home afterwards.” 

Kurt turns to Finn. “Aren’t you glad that you have a babysitter who was already planning on spending the night with Eliza?” 

“I don’t know,” Finn says, grinning. “You think we can trust Hannah?”

“With Eliza? Yes. In general? Absolutely not,” Noah answers. 

“I meant in the kitchen. I’m just worried about what kind of vegan monstrosity I’m coming home to,” Finn says. “Unless she smuggled in some eggs.”

“Knowing Hannah, she probably smuggled in some prosciutto _and_ some eggs,” Kurt says, almost giggling. “Come on, my loves. We shouldn’t let the party get too far without us.” 

The walk to the after-party takes longer than Kurt would like, given that it’s the Saturday following Thanksgiving and getting cold as winter approaches. Finn walks in the middle, his arms around Noah and Kurt, and Kurt snuggles into the warmth he provides. The after-party is at a rooftop bar, on top of a hotel, and when they arrive, there’s already quite a good crowd. Kurt pauses just inside the main area and looks around. “Wow,” he almost whispers. 

“Yeah.” Noah nods. “Damn.”

“We’re going in,” Finn says firmly, steering all three of them into the room before anyone can protest. 

Kurt picks up one of the cocktails sitting out, already mixed, without really thinking about it, and they move further into the crowd, smiling at a few people and nodding. While Kurt knows, of course, that some of the people are attending specifically for one cast member or another, in the end, it boils down to everyone is there because of them, and in the end, it’s absolutely thrilling. 

“Oh this is perfect,” Kurt says after they stop near the middle of the room. “Oh, there’s Tori and Allison.”

“I think the Karofskys are very overwhelmed,” Noah says, looking in the other direction. 

“Oh, damn. Yeah. Should I go talk to them?” Finn asks. 

“Maybe?” Noah says, then shakes his head. “Nah, wait here a second. I see Taylor kind of near them they should talk.” Noah walks away, and Kurt watches as he approaches Taylor and his fiancée, talking to them briefly before leading them to Karofsky and Casey. Noah stays there for a few more moments, then returns to Finn and Kurt. “There. I hadn’t met Matilda before, anyway.” 

“She’s cute. Good for Taylor,” Finn says. 

“Seems smart, too,” Noah agrees. “It’s kind of neat for so many people to show up. I think I saw Burt and Carole over that way.”

“We should go thank Burt for not standing up and shouting ‘that’s my boy’ in the middle of the theatre,” Finn suggests. 

“Oh, god,” Kurt says with a giggle. “I thought I was the only one thinking that.”

“I actually expected it after your first song, blue eyes,” Noah admits. 

The party goes much as Kurt had expected: there are a lot of congratulatory remarks, a few more in-depth conversations, and a bit more networking, albeit with cocktails instead of champagne. Kurt notes that Rachel is alternating between talking to people that she has clearly deemed important and looking almost too intimate with Zachary. Zachary has a joint in hand, catching up after performing sober, and Kurt makes a mental note to mention the Rachel and Zachary interaction to Finn later. 

Slowly but surely, as it gets later, people start to leave, until there are few enough people left that Kurt feels like he can collect his boys and leave. He takes Noah’s hand and walks them towards Finn, pressing their hands against Finn’s back in the low light. When Leslie finishes his conversation with Finn, Kurt turns and smiles. 

“Ready to go downstairs, darling?”

Finn jerks his head in Rachel’s direction. “I should check in, at least.”

Kurt raises one hand and catches Rachel’s eye, waving her over. “Are you having a good time?” he asks her politely but insincerely. 

“Oh, it’s lovely!” Rachel turns to Finn. “Zachary, Pat, and I, and a few others, were going to leave and head towards that new club a few blocks away, since Hannah’s with Eliza all night.”

“Sure. You staying out all night?” Finn asks. 

“I think so! Hannah said she could stay until noon tomorrow, so I wanted to take advantage of it.” She pauses. “If you don’t mind, I mean.”

Finn shrugs. “Have fun,” he says. 

“Thanks!” Rachel beams at the three of them and then hurries back over to Zachary and company. 

“Remind me to buy Hannah something else for Hanukkah,” Noah says. “Ready?”

“Yeah,” Finn says. “Let’s get out of here.”

They take the elevator down to the correct floor, and it isn’t until they step into the room, the door closing behind them, that it hits Kurt. “We’ve been here before.”

“We have?” Noah asks, flipping the locks. Finn just shrugs and shakes his head. 

“Maybe not this exact room, mind you,” Kurt concedes. “And they’ve definitely redecorated the lobby, but we were here shortly after the hotel first opened. In May of 2012.”

“Sanctuary Hotel,” Noah repeats. “Holy… fuck, you’re right.”

“Wait,” Finn says, looking around the room. “Is this where we stayed for Nationals?”

Kurt nods. “It is. What are the odds?” He steps closer to Finn and grins as Noah comes up behind Finn. “It must be a good place for us.” 

“A full night’s sleep with all three of us?” Noah pauses. “And free breakfast, too,” he adds, his tone lighter. 

“When’s the last time I got to stay all night?” Finn asks. “I can’t even remember.”

“Too long,” Kurt says decisively. “Definitely too long.” He reaches for Finn’s tie and unknots it slowly, then slides his hand down Finn’s chest. 

“Gonna have to agree,” Noah says, and Kurt watches Noah pull off Finn’s jacket and set it aside. 

“I’d always sort of thought…” Finn begins and trails off, sighing. “I don’t know. Thought it would be different by now.”

“I know,” Kurt says softly. He pulls Finn down into a kiss and then smiles. If it’s a little shaky, no one comments on it. “Love you, darling.”

“I love you guys,” Finn says. “Just like last time we were in this hotel. Just like next time we’re in this hotel.”

“I don’t think our nerves can take another opening night just yet,” Noah says wryly as he works on undressing Finn. 

“It is a nice hotel, though.” Kurt pushes Finn’s shirt off of him as Noah tugs on his pants. “Nice view, you could say.”

“I remember the bed being nice, anyway,” Finn says, unfastening his pants and letting Noah pull them down. 

“Did you want to refresh your memory of that?” Noah asks, spinning Finn towards him once he has Finn nearly naked. “We could do that.” Noah kisses Finn, and Kurt rests his head between Finn’s shoulders, running one hand down Finn’s arm. 

“I’d like to refresh _my_ memory of it,” Kurt says. 

“Mmm. This premiere thing is throwing off my schedule,” Finn says as he turns slightly, putting his arm around Kurt. “It’s been _days_ , you guys.”

“I know,” Kurt agrees, moving the three of them towards the bed, then stopping and looking at the three of them. “Oops.”

“I think we forgot something,” Noah says with a laugh a few seconds later. “Darling, you’re the only one appropriately attired for this party.”

“That’s probably a first!” Finn says. He starts working on Noah’s tie, but before he undoes it, he turns to Kurt and starts unknotting his tie, too. “Somebody else has to help me out here,” Finn adds. 

“Guess I could manage my own tie at least,” Noah concedes. “Better help Kurt, though.”

“I’m helpless,” Kurt agrees, though he starts to unfasten his pants. 

“Yeah, first thing I think of when I think of you, bossofme,” Finn laughs. “Helpless.” He moves Kurt’s hands out of the way and finishes unfastening Kurt’s pants, sliding them down his hips to the floor, then moving to the buttons of Kurt’s shirt. 

“You should.”

“It’s everyone’s first thought,” Noah says. He steps to the side, out of his pants, and presses against Finn’s side. “We should hurry so he doesn’t get cold.” 

Once Finn pushes Kurt’s shirt to the floor, he puts his arm around Kurt’s waist and drags him to the bed. As Kurt lands on the mattress, he makes a note to find out who, exactly, planned the after-party here, who booked the room, and once he knows, he’s going to send them some kind of large and over the top gift. They won’t know why, of course, but Kurt does, and as the three of them settle on the bed, Finn between them, it doesn’t feel like nine years have passed since they stayed there before. 

“Do you remember, darling?” Kurt says softly. “You stayed with us every night that we were here. I don’t even remember who you were supposed to be rooming with. You were with us, though, right where you belong.” 

“Yeah. It was a good trip,” Finn says. “I didn’t want to go back to Lima. I didn’t know how any of this was going to work out.”

“Too bad we couldn’t have stayed,” Noah says, his mouth pressing against Finn’s shoulder and the words a little muffled. “Perpetually almost high school graduates.” He moves his mouth, and Kurt watches Noah’s lips along Finn’s neck and ear. “What do you want, darling?” He looks up and meets Kurt’s eyes, and Kurt nods slowly. 

“To go back in time and get all of this right the first time?” Finn says. 

“Which sounds wonderful, but impossible,” Kurt says. “Anything you want, Finn.”

“I want one of you on either side of me, and I don’t want to have to move from the middle of this bed until the sun’s up,” Finn says. “Simple, right?”

“I think that we can manage,” Kurt agrees, then runs his tongue around Finn’s nipple. 

“Any other requests? As long as they don’t involve a musical number,” Noah amends. 

Finn slides one of his hands into Kurt’s hair and tugs a little, keeping him close. “No musical numbers,” Finn says. “This is good. This is perfect.”

“Finn,” Kurt whispers. “Do you remember…?”

“Remember what?” Finn asks. “You should tell me what I should remember.”

Kurt puts his mouth over Finn’s ear, whispering into them, and he can feel Noah’s hand and Finn’s hand on him, his own hands on them. “Remember when we first got here, darling? Our baby talked you through it at first, and then you were inside me, and he was inside you. Remember?”

“I remember,” Finn says quietly. “Feels like such a long time ago.”

“I remember saying ‘please’,” Kurt adds, smiling against Finn’s ear. “Please, darling.” 

“You felt so good. You always feel so good,” Finn says. 

“Show me.”

Finn holds his hand out, and a moment later, Noah places the bottle in Finn’s hand. “There’s also chocolate where that came from,” Noah says off-handedly. 

“Good to know,” Finn says. He pours some lube onto his fingers and rolls so Kurt’s back presses against the bed. Finn pushes one finger steadily inside Kurt, leaning down to kiss him at the same time. Kurt runs the fingers of one hand through Finn’s hair, holding him there. Kurt arches his body towards Finn, his heels digging into the mattress. 

“You two are fucking gorgeous,” Noah says. “Good thing we’ve got all night.” 

“Yes,” Kurt gasps, pulling away just enough to talk. “Finn, _please_.”

Finn exhales loudly and withdraws his finger, quickly pushing his cock inside Kurt and then stilling, resting his head against Kurt’s. “I love you,” Finn says quietly. 

“I love you, too.” Kurt smiles and then shifts minutely. “Oh, god, that’s so good, Finn, so good.” It’s been years, Kurt knows, long enough that he doesn’t want to think about exactly how long, and in the moment, it’s the closest he’s come to crossing his own line. The words are on the tip of his tongue— _Come home. Leave her. We want you._ —but he doesn’t say them, instead kissing Finn deeply. However tempting it is, he won’t do it, at least not yet. He pulls back and looks at Finn, smiling just slightly. 

“This is just right,” Finn says, staring down at Kurt. “It’s perfect.” After a few moments, Finn closes his eyes and rocks his body back against Noah’s behind him, then thrusts forward into Kurt again. 

“ _We’re_ perfect,” Noah says firmly, grunting at the end of the sentence, and Kurt nods. 

“We are. I love you. Both of you.” 

For a brief moment, Finn looks as if he’s going to say something, but the moment passes, and he doesn’t speak. The three of them move together, and after another moment, Kurt sees something in Finn’s face change, something he can’t quite name. Kurt wonders if his mind is merging his memories of Finn’s face, years earlier, along with how he looks in the present, and it’s overwhelming and fascinating at the same time. He pulls Finn into another kiss, one hand reaching beyond Finn and landing on Noah’s arm. 

Kurt runs his other hand down the side of Finn’s face and neck, to his arm, and pulls away slowly, meeting each of Finn’s movements and feeling the movement of Finn’s arm muscles under one hand and Noah’s under the other. 

Finn starts to mutter quietly, “Kurt, fuck. Love you. Love you, Puck.” Kurt presses his lips to Finn’s neck, his hands tightening. 

“Come for me, darling,” Kurt whispers. Finn head drops forward and he comes, his body shuddering. Kurt feels Noah tense and then relax, his muscles uncoiling as he comes, and Kurt pushes up against Finn before coming himself. 

The room is quiet for a long moment before Noah suddenly starts to laugh. “Hey blue eyes?”

“Hmmm?” Kurt says, his hands still moving over their skin. 

“Hannah may have Eliza, and we’ve got this nice hotel room, but tomorrow’s Sunday.” Noah pauses. “Not only do we have to work tomorrow, we have to work _earlier_ than usual.” 

“You should read the reviews in the morning first,” Finn mumbles into the side of Kurt’s neck. “If they suck, you can just stay here.”

Kurt giggles. “No, we’ll make you read them. _Then_ we’ll decide.”


	3. Lights Will Guide You Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ten years later, it's still what they do when they get together. They sing.

> If you ever wanted to see a Tony nominee, an NFL quarterback, and a hot up-and-coming indie director collaborate on performing a 2011 Internet viral sensation, you missed your chance last night at Five Minutes in Midtown. The karaoke bar already has a reputation as a place to see and be seen, and that was solidified last night when an unusual group descended.
> 
> Earlier in the evening, _Milk_ gave an unusual private, early (curtain at 6:30 pm) performance to the high school students vying against each other in the National Show Choir Competition this week. Several of the attendees at Five Minutes are affiliated with _Milk_ : Kurt and Noah Hummel (the latter is the Tony nominee mentioned above), Mike Chang, Rachel Berry, and Tina Cohen-Chang, who represents the show’s creators in professional legal matters. Also there were a former NFL quarterback, Finn “Bluebird” Hudson; a current NFL quarterback, Sam Evans; the R&B singing star Mercedes Jones; and an assortment of other rising stars in circus performance, directing, public relations, and media studies. The group didn’t ask for a private room, but instead performed and watched in the main lounge.
> 
> After a few hours, the group was approached by another smaller group and asked how they all knew each other.
> 
> “This? This is the 2012 Nationals–winning show choir,” a rather inebriated Sam Evans informed the entire bar, gesturing expansively. He continued in a stage whisper. “It’s what we do when we get together. We sing.”
> 
> We can only wonder if the Dolphins will somehow incorporate Evans’ latent show choir talents into next year’s game plan.
> 
> Still, we found the claim interesting, and this morning we called the Nederlander and spoke to the Hummels’ assistant, Lillian Landreth. “Yes, it was an unofficial reunion of sorts, and in addition to the pro bono performance for the high schoolers, they honored their former show choir director, who has brought his current show choir to this week’s competition. They have experienced a bit of a cohort effect, you could say. All twelve members of the 2012 New Directions have experienced professional success, and as adults, they attribute part of that success to the attitude of their director, William Schuester, of Lima, Ohio.”
> 
> Lima, Ohio. A little more research confirmed that yes, all of these people came from the small town that doesn’t even make the list of twenty most populated cities in Ohio, and all graduated from William McKinley High School in 2012. Ten years later, we think they’ve done quite well, which I suppose means that perhaps the world does owe a tip of the hat to William Schuester, Spanish teacher and show choir director. Whatever was happening in Lima, Ohio, for the class of 2012, I think they should try to replicate it. Well done, 2012 New Directions show choir, and if you have a repeat performance at Five Minutes, this reporter would love a heads up.

When Kurt first hears that New Directions won their Regional competition and are headed to New York for Nationals, he doesn't think that much of it, until two days later when he realizes it's been ten years. Ten years since the twelve of them won, ten years since graduation, and nine and a half years since they were all assembled in one place.

The idea forms rapidly after that. Seven of them are already in New York. Noah and Kurt can more or less commandeer the Nederlander and, to a lesser extent, the entire cast of _Milk_. With the benefit of years of hindsight, they can recognize what Mr. Schuester did right, and since they have the chance to honor him, get together with old friends, and avoid the official ten year reunion in Lima, being held later in the year, Kurt, Noah, and Finn become the unofficial hosts of an unofficial reunion.

Everyone had responded quickly and affirmatively; hotel rooms had been booked and Syd had volunteered to have a sleepover with Eliza. Tuesday was, of course, their usual dark night, but it made a fantastic opportunity to treat all the groups competing to a private and free performance. The National Show Choir Competition organizers had been thrilled by the offer and were proving to be some of the easiest people to work with, from what Noah says and Kurt observes.

The day before, Tina and Mike meet Brittany and her husband Danny at Newark at nearly the same time that Kurt, Noah, and Finn meet Artie and Lauren at LaGuardia. When Noah had first read the flight information for Mercedes, Santana, and Sam, all three of them had laughed: three different airports at nearly the exact same time.

They're all adults, but Kurt knows he himself prefers to be met at the airport when possible, so he, Noah, and Finn had decided to divide up and meet each of their visitors. Kurt and Noah ride together to Penn Station, stopping to pick up Eliza on the way, and then Kurt waves at Noah and Eliza as they head to Newark, and Kurt sits down on the train towards JFK with a brief sigh. He thinks a cab for the return trip might make more sense, given that Mercedes will have luggage, but there's no reason not to take the train on the way there.

Kurt checks the flight information again; ATL to JFK, arriving at 10:45 am, and on time. Kurt had never intended to lose touch with Mercedes as thoroughly as he has. Their lives had started going in different directions even before graduation, though, and nothing during college or afterwards had changed that. When Mercedes had sent them a wedding invitation, Kurt had felt bad that they had had to decline, but he’d also wondered if the invitation had been a courtesy more than anything.

Still, of the three of them, he was the logical choice to meet Mercedes, and as the train approaches JFK, he wonders how much Mercedes has kept up with his life. He’s followed her career from a distance, but it’s a very distinct and different circle from his own.

It doesn’t take long for Kurt to spot Mercedes, at least. She _looks_ like she just flew in from Atlanta, where the high temperature was projected to be in the 80s, and Kurt briefly hopes that her carryon has a sweater or something in it. “Mercedes Jones,” he says with a smile, stepping forward to greet her.

“Kurt Hummel.” Mercedes laughs and hugs him. “Look at you!”

“Look at you,” Kurt counters. “You’re going to freeze!”

“Oh, I have a cardigan,” Mercedes assures him. “I just never expected to see you dressed like this.”  
Kurt looks down, a little puzzled. He’s not wearing top-name designers, true; his habit of H&M has stuck even after their income has increased. He supposes to someone thinking of how he dressed in high school, he does seem dressed down: Doc Marten boots, jeans, plaid shirt, and leather jacket. It may not be designer, but it is in fashion, appropriate for the day, and appropriate for the weather. More than that, he looks good, he knows it, and in the end, he simply shrugs in lieu of a response.

“And it was nice of you to take off in the middle of the day to meet me,” Mercedes continues.

“Oh, Tuesday’s our day off,” Kurt assures her. “And our hours run something closer to swing shift as it is.”

“That’s right!” Mercedes indicates her suitcase and garment bag, and Kurt lifts them both. “I remember Rachel telling me she has Tuesdays free usually.”

“Yes.” Kurt hails a cab outside the airport and loads Mercedes’ bags into the rear. That answers part of Kurt's question, though he doesn't know how Rachel has filtered news when passing it along. “How is life in Atlanta?” he asks as they settle into the cab.

“Oh, I love Atlanta,” Mercedes says enthusiastically. “Politically, professionally, it’s wonderful.”

Kurt frowns slightly, because there’s a decided lack of mention of her personal life. “And… Ty?” he asks.

Mercedes sighs. “Ty thought I’d want to pause my career and have a couple of babies. I think he thought my saying ‘yes’ to getting married meant I was saying yes to that! Our third anniversary would be later this month, but we’re separated.”

“Oh, Mercedes,” Kurt says, sympathetically. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

“I’m sure his mama hasn’t made things any better. She made it clear she wanted grandbabies from the moment we returned from the honeymoon, and well, I didn’t put all the pieces together.” She shrugs too nonchalantly and changes the subject. “Tell me more about what we’re doing these few days with all of us together!”

 

“C’mon, sweet potato,” Noah says to Eliza as they wave at Kurt before finding the right track to head towards Newark to meet Santana. “We get the longest train ride.” Noah’s not completely sure that’s right; the train Kurt has to take to JFK is pretty long, too, but Kurt's planning on taking a cab back.

“Okay!” Eliza chirps, pulling on Noah’s hand as she hops in place. “I like trains.”

“Maybe for your birthday we’ll get you a model train,” Noah muses. If Rachel doesn’t like it, they can always house it at their apartment instead of Eliza’s.

“With the lights?” Eliza grins at Noah, and Noah nods, putting her on his shoulders as they enter the train.

“With the lights. You like that?”

“Thanks, Puck!”

“Hey, your birthday’s not until October,” Noah laughs. “Don’t get ahead of yourself.”

When they get to Newark, Noah checks the board. Santana’s been on a plane for a long time, since she left LAX at 12:30 am and is landing at 10:47 am in Newark. Even with the time difference, it’s a long trip. The board says her flight’s on time, though, so Noah takes Eliza with him towards the correct baggage carousel. It’s weird to think about the fact that it’s been nine and a half years since he last saw Santana. Nothing intentional, just life, and he wonders for a few minutes if he’ll recognize her.

He does, right away, though he can see the moment recognition hits her in return. “I don’t even know what to call you,” she says, stopping in front of him. “Got any suggestions?”

“I’m partial to ‘hey, you’ or ‘dude in charge’, but I don’t think those’ll work,” Noah says wryly, shifting Eliza and hugging Santana. “Hi, ’Tana.”

“You’re ’Tana?” Eliza asks. “I’m Eliza!”

“It’s nice to meet you,” Santana says, raising an eyebrow at Noah, who shrugs.

“It’s Tuesday,” he says, “and this was the longest train ride.”

“I suppose that’s important.” Santana nods a little, then finds her luggage, which results in Eliza trying to carry Santana’s bags.

“Easy there, sweet potato.” Noah laughs. “You’ve got a few years still before you have to take over the Hudson job of carrying the heavy things.”

“So I heard you’re at least moderately successful?” Santana asks once they’re back on the train, heading into Manhattan.

“Define successful.” Noah smirks. “We do okay.”

“And married for how long, exactly?”

“Seven years.”

“How’s monogamy working out for you?” Santana asks, seemingly genuine in her question, and Noah laughs.

“That’s something we’re not really experts on. Haven’t been monogamous in ten years, more or less.”

“Wait, _what_?” Santana looks incredulous.

“Ask me about polyfidelity and I might have a different answer for you.” Noah is sometimes still surprised by how having the right words makes a difference. Finn's still not home, not yet, but they know what and who they are, and that they aren't completely unique. It makes things easier, even though Noah knows rationally it shouldn't.

“Seriously?” Santana looks surprised. “But I thought— or, well, I assumed, since they were married, and, well.” She nods her head towards Eliza.

Noah shrugs. “Things aren’t always what they look like.”

“And you’re just outright telling me this?”  
“You aren’t exactly the only person among the twelve of us who knows.” Noah snorts. “Now half of us do.”

“Mike and Tina.”

“Yep.” Noah shrugs and smiles at Eliza twirling in the aisle of the train.

Santana is quiet for a few beats, and Noah can feel her eyes on him, watching him as he watches Eliza. When she speaks, her voice is low. “How much time does she spend with you and Kurt?”

“Like I said, Tuesdays. Most Saturdays. What we can.” 

 

Finn arrives at LaGuardia with twenty minutes to spare before Sam’s 10:55 arrival, so he finds a place outside where he can smoke a cigarette before going inside to meet Sam. It’s been awhile since Finn’s seen Sam in person, but Finn makes a point of watching at least a few of Sam’s games on TV every year, so he’s not entirely surprised by the changes he sees in Sam’s face. 

Sam grins when he spots Finn. “Hey, man!” He offers his hand and pulls Finn into a bro hug. “Good to see you!”

“You, too,” Finn says. “Looking tan. Miami treating you good?”

“It is, it is. A lot warmer than it is here, too!”

Finn laughs, patting Sam on the back once before releasing him. “Yeah, I bet it is. Beaches are probably nicer, too.”

“Do you even _have_ a beach here?” Sam asks, still grinning. “No checked luggage, just this thing,” he says, indicating his carry-on. “But I’ll concede you have public transit.”

“We have excellent public transit,” Finn agrees. “You ready to see everybody?”

“Yeah, wow. I can’t believe it’s been so long. What’s this theatre that we have access to, exactly? That email was kind of vague.”

“Yeah, I think Puck’s vague on purpose to fuck with people,” Finn says. He shakes his head and laughs. “It’s the Nederlander, where their musical’s been running for the past six months. It’s nominated for a fuckton of Tonys!”

Sam gapes for a second, then starts laughing. “Yeah, okay, that’s definitely fucking with me, anyway. Sorry I couldn’t fly in before this morning, but I had a thing yesterday that I couldn’t move. Are we meeting up with everyone after lunch?”

“That’s the plan,” Finn says. “Kurt and Puck’ll be early. Rach’ll show up late to make a grand entrance. You can meet Eliza, though!”

“Oh, hey, yeah, that’ll be cool,” Sam says. “How old is she now?”

“Two and a half,” Finn says proudly. “Still tiny, though.”

“Rachel got her singing yet?”

Finn snorts at that, because Sam still knows Rachel pretty well, even after all this time. “Nah. Not for lack of trying, though. Puck’s been trying to teach her the guitar, and she’s got this little harmonica. It mostly sounds like she’s stepping on a cat when she plays it, but it’s cute.”

Sam laughs. “Yeah, that sounds cute. I don’t know anyone who can really play the harmonica, though, two and a half or not.”

“Billy Joel and the late Bob Dylan,” Finn says. 

“Well, they are both Jewish,” Sam says after a moment. “Maybe Eliza’s got a shot, then.”

“Yeah, maybe so,” Finn agrees. “Come on, taxis are up this way. Figured that’s the best way to travel with famous Miami quarterback Sam Evans.”

 

Kurt thinks that perhaps they should have organized lunch for everyone, as good hosts, but they had not. Instead, he, Noah, Finn, and Eliza have food from Jack’s delivered, and they eat backstage at the theatre. Noah spends a good ten minutes convincing Eliza to try the calamari, but once she finally does, she declares it ‘slimminy!’ and doesn’t have another bite. 

Once they finish, the four of them move to the stage to wait for the rest of them to show up. Noah picks up a guitar from the pit and starts talking about chords with Eliza, who nods a lot, and Kurt shakes his head, sitting in Harvey’s chair in the camera shop portion of the set. 

“Should we tell him that Eliza’s hands just aren’t big enough?” Kurt says to Finn. “You’d think he’d have realized already.”

“Maybe I’ll buy both of them ukuleles for her birthday,” Finn says.

Kurt affects a shudder. “Can you keep them in Eliza’s room, then? I already have an oboe, a cello, and god knows what else living with me.”

“I’ll get some cute little cases for them, and we can bring them back and forth,” Finn agrees. 

One of the doors in the back of the house opens, and Santana strides through, as if she knows exactly what she’s doing and where she’s going, even though Kurt knows she’s never set foot in the Nederlander before that moment. Quinn and Brittany are behind her, and Kurt lifts a hand. “Come on down,” he calls. 

“Thanks, I think we will,” Santana calls back. “Long time no see, Hudson.”

“Hey, Santana,” Finn says. “Hey, Quinn. Hey, Brittany.”

“Hi, Finn,” Quinn says. Brittany smiles widely and waves at everyone. 

“Hey, girls,” Noah says, then turns back to Eliza. “Remember ’Tana from this morning? She’s here, and that’s Brittany. You can call her Britt. And you remember Q.”

“Hi!” Eliza turns and grins at them. “I’m Eliza,” she adds, looking at Brittany. Brittany squats in front of Eliza in a position that looks like it would be uncomfortable for anyone who isn’t Brittany or a toddler, and smiles.

“Hello, Eliza,” Brittany says, offering Eliza her hand. 

“Hi!” Eliza takes Brittany’s hand and points with her other hand. “That’s Dad. And my Kurt. And that’s my Puck.”

“Yeah, we’re not slaves to Eliza’s whims at all,” Finn laughs. 

“Good girl,” Kurt says to Eliza with a smirk. “Come here, sweet potato.” 

“Sweet potato? Does everyone call her that?” Santana asks. “Or just you two?”

“Rachel’s not a big fan,” Finn says quietly.

“That’s a _vegetable_ ,” Kurt says solemnly, picking up Eliza and putting her in his lap as the doors open again. 

“Hey!” Tina’s voice calls before she appears with Mike, and then Sam and Mercedes come through the door, which makes Kurt duck his head behind Eliza to hide his smile. 

“We said reunion, not reenactment,” Noah says quietly enough that it doesn’t carry, and all of them on stage laugh for a moment, even Eliza. 

“Hey, guys!” Sam says when he reaches the stage. He stands in one place and turns around. “Pretty cool. Just access to a theatre, huh?”

Noah smirks. “Never made any claims about what size the theatre was or where it was.” 

“Yeah, yeah.” Sam laughs and shakes hands with Noah, then comes over to Kurt. “Well, hi. Are you Eliza?”

“Yep!”

“That’s Sam,” Kurt tells her. “He plays football for a team called the Dolphins.”

“Dolphins go he-he-he!” Eliza says, doing a fair impersonation of a dolphin noise. 

“Yeah, they do,” Sam agrees. “Luckily I don’t have to do that, though.”

“You’d think that wouldn’t be a problem for you,” Santana drawls. “Trouty Mouth.” 

Sam laughs. “Which one of you do I have to thank for the fact that no one in the NFL’s ever found out about that song or that nickname?” 

“Don’t thank me,” Finn says. “I tried to spread it around as much as possible before I left.”

“Thanks, dude,” Sam says, laughing, and then the door opens again, Artie and Lauren appearing. 

“Nevermind, it’s totally reenactment,” Noah says with a laugh as he stands up and then nudges Sam. “They didn’t care about wheelchair access one hundred years ago.”

“One hundred and one now,” Kurt corrects, grinning. 

“Yeah, yeah.” Noah laughs. “One hundred and one.” He and Sam navigate the stairs with Artie, and then Noah drops back onto the stage. “Well, that’s almost everyone. Hey, dude,” he says to Artie, nodding at him and then Lauren.

“That’s quite the hair you’re rocking there, Puckerman,” Lauren says.

“It’s my disguise,” Noah protests, shaking his head slightly. “You weren’t supposed to recognize me.” 

“Better try harder next time,” Lauren retorts. 

“Well, if it makes you feel better, you nearly fooled me,” Mercedes says, smiling. “And wait, what _are_ we supposed to call you?”

Finn and Eliza both shout “Puck!” like they’ve rehearsed it, which is possible. 

“That’s just you two,” Noah says, shaking his head at them, and then he turns back to Mercedes. “Everybody else calls me Noah. Oh, except some of the crew members call me ‘sir’, which is kind of awesome.” 

“I’m going to skip that, I think,” Mercedes laughs. Everyone starts chatting quietly, catching up on each other’s lives, until ten minutes after the appointed meeting time, at which point Kurt hears the door a final time. 

“I am _so_ sorry I’m late!” Rachel announces theatrically. “I hope you weren’t waiting on me! Oh! It’s so good to see all of you!”

“Mommy!” Eliza says, jumping off Kurt’s lap and running over to hug her. “Everyone’s visiting!”

“I see! Isn’t it exciting?” Rachel says, bending down to speak to Eliza. “Ooh, careful! Don’t smudge Mommy’s lipstick.”

“Okay, Mommy.” Eliza tugs on Rachel’s hand, walking towards Santana. “’Tana!”

“Hi, Berry,” Santana says. “Your daughter’s adorable.”

“Hello, Santana, and thank you.” Rachel says, pasting on her usual smile. “Eliza, Mommy needs to sit down now.”

“Okay!”

“Well.” Kurt waits for a second before continuing. “Welcome to our home away from home.” 

“Now that we’ve gathered you all here, it’s time to lock the doors and— no, wrong speech.” Noah grins. “Does anyone want an explanation less vague than the email?”

“Ooh, ooh, me!” Tina says, stretching her hand over her head. “Pick me!”

“Hannah probably hacked our computers and sent you a copy of every file,” Noah retorts. 

“Hannah’s a good girl,” Tina says with a grin. 

“Except when she tries to make tomato pâté,” Kurt says, shuddering. “Go on, Noah.” 

“Yeah, okay. So a couple of months ago, Burt mentioned to us that for the first time in some horribly long time, Schue was bringing New Directions to New York for Nationals again. Which got us thinking about the fact that it’d been ten years—crazy, I know—and also about the fact that we’re a— what’s the word again, Finn?”

“Cohort,” Finn says. Sam turns towards Finn, looking vaguely impressed, and nods. 

“Yeah, a cohort. Look at us, look at the classes above us and after us and all of that. There’s no reason we should all be here, all of us successful, not coming from Lima. And whether we appreciated it at the time or not—I’m voting that we didn’t, by the way—we have really just one thing and one person in common, that the rest of them didn’t have.”

“That’s extraordinarily perceptive of you,” Santana says. 

“Yeah, well, I’ve raised a teenager,” Noah says dryly. 

“And we never had to call the cops, so it was successful,” Kurt adds. “So we thought we’d do two things, really. The part that most of you don’t really have to do anything for is a pro bono performance that you also have tickets for. All of the groups competing in Nationals are invited, since Tuesday is usually our dark night. Before the show, however, we thought that we’d pay tribute in some way to Mr. Schuester. _Not_ with ‘Sit Down You’re Rocking the Boat’,” Kurt stresses, and Tina pouts exaggeratedly. 

“We should do Journey!” Rachel enthuses. “We could reprise our entire set list from Regionals sophomore year, starting with Finn and I doing ‘Faithfully’.”

“Hmm… no,” Noah says, shaking his head. 

“Noah, you can’t unilaterally veto my suggestion!”

“Well, you’re right,” Noah concedes, nodding slowly, and then he looks at Kurt. “K, what do you say?”

“No ‘Faithfully’,” Kurt agrees. 

“Our theatre, our veto,” Noah says smugly to Rachel. “I’ve consulted with Kurt, and he says no as well, so. Nope.” 

Rachel frowns, letting out a loud sigh. Quinn seems to be resisting the urge to roll her eyes, but suggests, “Why don’t we do a group number? That would probably be the nicest gesture.”

“We could still do Journey, even,” Sam suggests.

“We do sort of have a signature song,” Mike says, grinning. “But can I plan out some awesome choreography?”

“We’ve only got about four hours,” Tina chides him. 

“Some awesome, relatively easy to learn choreography,” Mike amends. “Anyone have any new physical limitations I should know about? Finn, I’ll make sure you aren’t hanging by your left arm or anything.”

“Thanks, man. That’s really thoughtful,” Finn says. 

“Mike’s still upset we vetoed any choreography requiring a harness,” Noah deadpans. 

“I am. You guys missed a great opportunity, and now people just hate the show.”

“It’s no _Spider-Man_ ,” Kurt says, smirking. “Well, then.” He turns to Finn and raises an eyebrow. 

“Where’s the jazz band when you need ’em?” Finn grumbles. “Ok, everybody. ‘Don’t Stop Believin’, from the top!”

 

Noah’s not entirely sure how much actual rehearsing they managed, between the overall reunion feel of the day and Mike and Brittany’s choreography competition, the point of which seemed to be coming up with increasingly outlandish ideas. They break for an early dinner backstage and as the cast starts arriving, everything devolves into round after round of introductions. 

Syd arrives to pick up Eliza, because Hannah wants to see if she knows any of the kids from McKinley, since they’re just a year or two younger than her. Syd leans against the doorway and Noah nods at her. “Hey, Syd.”

“Hey, Noah. Hey, Hudson!” she continues, raising her voice over the moderate din echoing in the room. 

“Syd!” Finn calls back. “Come meet people. People, this is Syd!”

“I know half of them. Hey, Tina, Mike, Kurt.” She smiles just a little too nicely at Rachel, like she usually does. “Rachel.” 

Finn starts pointing around the room at people. “That’s Sam, he’s the one who plays for the Dolphins.” Sam waves, then turns back to his conversation with Artie. “And he’s talking to Artie. Artie’s a director.” Artie nods in Syd’s direction. “That’s Brittany, who ran away to join the circus.”

“It’s true,” Brittany says.

“Quinn’s next to her,” Finn continues. “And you know who Quinn is.”

“Nice to finally meet you,” Quinn says. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“Same,” Syd says, smiling at Quinn in a way that’s a lot more sincere than she ever smiles at Rachel, which makes Noah hide a smirk.

“And that’s Santana on Britt’s other side. Guess where she works, Syd,” Finn says. 

“There’s not a doctor among you, right?”

“Nope,” Finn answers. “Here’s a hint. It’ll make you _happy_.”

“Oh, it’s a pun,” Syd says with a sigh. “Happy, happy, hmm.”

“For god’s sake, Hudson, you’re a dork,” Santana says. “GLAAD,” she says to Syd. “I’m going to be working at GLAAD.”

“Ahh, okay,” Syd nods. “I work at Lambda Legal.” Noah recognizes the looks on their faces, and shakes his head. 

“Okay, ’Tana, you’re going to be in town until what, Thursday, Friday? I’ll get you Syd’s number, I promise.” He pauses. “Just remember, though, she’s Finn’s best friend, so she’s the type to come after you if you step out of line. And Finn might, too.” 

“I’ll remember that, thanks,” Santana says wryly, then grins at Syd and offers her hand. “Santana Lopez.”

“Syd Beckett. Sadly, I have to run for now.” She picks up Eliza and turns back to Finn. “Hannah’ll switch out afterwards?”

“Yep, she knows where to meet you,” Finn says.

“Sounds good.” Syd waves and disappears with Eliza, who is already starting to tell her about riding on the train and eating the slimminy lunch. 

The twelve of them don’t possess anything resembling costumes, not even matching T-shirts, until Kurt asks Lillian to send someone down 7th Avenue to the H&M at 34th, and they end up with matching red V-neck T-shirts. Everyone shifts dressing areas, freeing up a room for them, and while they’re changing, Sam turns to Artie. “So what’s the deal with you and Lauren?”

“It’s a non-traditional kind of thing, but it works for us,” Artie answers, with a dismissive hand gesture. 

“Preach,” is the choral response from Santana, Brittany, Finn, Kurt, and Noah, and then they all laugh. 

“Oh, right,” Noah says a few seconds later. “K, Q, Finn, c’mere.” The four of them gather in one spot, and Noah tosses his phone to Sam. “Take a picture for us?”

“Sure,” Sam says, looking puzzled, but he takes a few shots and then hands Noah back his phone. Noah sends it as a group message, so they each have a copy, though Beth’s listed first. When they’d enlisted Shelby’s help with making sure Schue wouldn’t duck out, and that he wouldn’t get wind Emma and their kid were flying in, Beth had insisted she get a picture of Noah, Kurt, Finn, and Quinn together. 

They’re almost ready when all four phones chime with Beth’s response: _Broadway show & you’re all wearing red tshirts??_

“It was short notice!” Kurt protests out loud. 

“What— who are you sending pictures to?” Mercedes asks, though Noah can tell that she’s not the only curious one. 

“A twelve year old who’s very bitter that she’s not in high school yet,” Noah says wryly, then shakes his head once. “Beth.”

“Oh.” Mercedes looks taken aback, Artie looks slightly surprised, Sam looks almost confused, and Santana contemplates the four of them, nodding slowly. Rachel merely looks impatient, but she’s been in a snit since the rest of them had decided to split the song up closer to how they had at regionals back in sophomore year, instead of making it the Rachel and Finn show, or the Rachel show. No one really has time to ask any questions, though, not if the main show’s still going to start anywhere near 6:30 as planned, and they head towards the stage. 

Noah’s the appointed spokesperson, because he’s the least immediately recognizable. He does concede that sending Finn or Sam or Mercedes out would be a dead giveaway. “You’re sure you don’t want to write something down real quick?” Noah asks Kurt just before he walks out there. 

“Just improvise, baby. You’ll do fine.” Kurt grins and kisses him quickly, then goes behind the curtain with the rest of them, and Noah shakes his head, then walks onto the stage. The noise drops quickly, and Noah picks up the handheld microphone. 

“Welcome to the Nederlander.” He pauses as approximately eight hundred overly excited high school students cheer. Probably at least half of them are deliberately projecting, to sound louder. “I’m the appointed spokesperson, because I’m not immediately recognizable. Before we let you start watching the show, there’s a group of us that have something to say.” Noah pauses, trying to decide how to proceed, and wishing he’d had time to make Kurt write something down for him. 

“Several years ago, though I won’t say exactly how many just yet, my friends and I won Nationals.” He pauses again for more cheering. “And at the time, we didn’t always appreciate our director. As we’ve gotten older, though, we’ve realized just what he—or she, don’t want to give anything away yet—did for us. Our director took a group of kids in a small town, not near one of the country’s major metropolitan areas, and told us we could win. We didn’t have any special training. But we believed our director, and after a couple of years, that’s exactly what we did.” Noah grins, scanning the house in the area Lillian said McKinley was sitting. He finally spots Schue, who looks interested but not like he’s figured it out, by any means. 

“It gave us a taste for winning, and more than that, maybe, persistence. This many people from our small town don’t succeed, but our cohort did. And as adults, we can look back and see how much we owe to our director. We’ll name some names in a few minutes, but first we have a small performance for him.” Noah hands the microphone off to one of the crew, slipping behind the curtain, still grinning to himself. 

“Did he guess?” Kurt whispers, and Noah shakes his head. 

“I don’t think so.” 

A few beats pass before the music starts and the curtain goes up, and Noah wishes they had managed to have a camera on Schue’s face or something. Finn steps forward, grinning, and starts them off. “ _Just a small town girl_ … ”

Considering that they haven’t all performed together in years, and some of them haven’t performed since high school, they sound pretty good. They had started with the arrangement from Regionals and then played with it, so everyone’s sung, either alone or with a few others, before Kurt starts. Finn still joins him after two lines, and Noah almost has to close his eyes listening to the two of them together. 

“ _Payin’ anything to roll the dice just one more time_ ” is possibly the best line out of the entire song for the two of them to sing together, but Noah almost misses his own cue to come in, thinking about it. 

They finish in a line across the stage, and as the music dies away, they turn to look towards where Mr. Schue is sitting with the current incarnation of New Directions. He looks pretty stunned, though he does at least appear to understand now that they are talking about him. They wait for the applause to die down, and Noah accepts the handheld microphone again. 

“This is the 2012 Nationals–winning show choir, New Directions, from McKinley High School in Lima, Ohio,” he says, waiting for the McKinley students to yell disbelievingly. “And we’d like William Schuester to stand and come up here.” 

It takes a minute for Schue to get to his feet, and as he walks slowly down to the stage, Noah continues. “This probably seems a little self-indulgent, but hey, you’re seeing a Tony-nominated show for free, so consider it the price of admission or something. Also with us tonight is Mr. Schuester’s wife and son, if they’d stand up.” Ms. Pillsbury-Schuester and their son, Julian, stand up, and Mr. Schue stops in the middle of the aisle, staring at them before shaking his head and finally making it to the stage. 

“I’m speechless, you guys,” Noah can hear Schue say, near the other end of the line. “All of you, here.”

“This is the self-indulgent part,” Noah continues. “We’re going to each talk for a minute about what we’ve been doing since we graduated from high school, to catch Mr. Schue up, and since all of you are here, maybe we’ll encourage a few of you that no matter what tiny town you’re from, you really can get out of there.” There’s some laughter and cheers from the audience, which aside from about ten groups, mostly _is_ made up of show choirs from small cities and smaller towns. 

While Noah talks, one of the crew hands Artie, at the other end, another handheld microphone, and once Noah finishes, he nods in Artie’s direction. 

“My name is Artie Abrams,” Artie begins. “I graduated from USC with a bachelor’s degree in Film and Television Production, then from UCLA with a Production/Directing MFA. _The Bicyclist_ , a short film I wrote, directed, and co-produced with my professional partner, Lauren Zizes – Lauren, stand up and wave at Mr. Schue.” Artie pauses while Lauren stands and waves in Mr. Schue’s direction. Schue grins and waves back. “Won Best Short at the 22nd annual California Independent Film Festival and the Short Film Jury Award: US Fiction at the 2020 Sundance Film Festival. We’re currently working on our next film project, _Eighteen and Under_.”

Artie hands the microphone to Brittany, who smiles widely at the audience. “Hi, everybody!” When the audience doesn’t respond, Brittany repeats, more loudly, “I said, _hi everybody_!” This time, most of the audience parrots back “Hi,” which seems to satisfy Brittany, who continues, “I’m Brittany Wright-Pierce, Cirque choreographer and Persian cat breeder. I studied dance at FSU, but my real love was the circus, and I started performing with the Cirque right after I graduated. I’ve been choreographing silks routines for them for the last two years. Now I split my time between my best friend Santana and my husband Danny Wright-Pierce, and my husband Danny and I split our time between the Cirque in Las Vegas and our cattery in Chapel Hill, North Carolina.”

Most of the audience doesn’t quite seem to know what to make of Brittany or everything she’s just told them, and even Schue looks a little stupefied. Sam takes the microphone from her after a few moments, grinning at the audience. 

“Hey, I’m Sam. So who here is from Louisiana, or likes LSU?” He waits for a few cheers, mostly from a school that’s probably from Louisiana, then continues. “Yeah, I went to LSU and played there, when we went to the playoffs in sixteen and seventeen. Entered the draft, didn’t get picked number three or anything, but still first round by the Dolphins, and I’m the starting quarterback for Miami still.” He grins again and then hands the microphone to Quinn. 

“It’s good to see you again, Mr. Schuester,” Quinn says. Schue grins at Quinn and mouths ‘you too’. “When I was here for Nationals ten years ago, I never thought I’d end up living in New York, but here I am! I finished my MS in Public Relations and Corporate Communications a few years ago, and I’m currently working for the Spencer Firm.” She doesn’t seem sure about what else to say, so she hands the microphone to Mike. 

“Hi, I’m Mike Chang, and I bet most of you out there have never heard of me,” Mike says with a laugh. “I went to Boston Conservatory for dance and then got an MFA in choreography from SUNY-Purchase, which isn’t too far outside the city, if you’re not from New York. And currently I’m waiting for the first Sunday in June, because I’m nominated for the Best Choreography Tony.” 

Mike barely has time to turn towards Rachel before she grabs the microphone from him, beaming at Schue and the audience. “I’m Rachel Berry,” she introduces herself. “I was a voice major at Juilliard, and then began auditioning for shows here in the city. This is my second show in the Nederlander, as I was an understudy with _Newsies_ , and I also am nominated for a Tony, for Best Actress in a Featured Role in a Musical, for _Milk_.” She looks torn, like she wants to add something else, but finally just gives Finn the microphone. 

Finn looks down the row to his right and left, and shakes his head. “Mr. Schue, I bet you never thought I’d be the only one out of all of us who was still in school ten years later, huh?” Schue shakes his head and laughs. “It’s not that I really love being in school. I took a couple of years off to do some football thing.” 

There’s a group that must be from Chicago that suddenly starts cheering, and one of them stands up and shouts “Bluebird!”

Finn gives the kid a thumbs up before continuing, “Yeah, that’s what it was. Unlike my buddy Sam over there, I didn’t have a long and great football career, but hey, I won the Heisman and he didn’t. Sorry, dude.” Finn grins in Sam’s direction, and Sam laughs, shaking his fist in the air. “I got my BA in psych at the University of Wisconsin, my MA in music therapy at Steinhardt, and I’m going to spend the rest of my natural life, and probably some of my unnatural afterlife, finishing my PhD in developmental psych at the New School for Social Research. And all of that from the guy who used to cheat off his best friend on tests in second grade,” he adds, turning and winking at Noah. 

Noah shrugs and speaks into his own microphone. “Maybe _you’re_ the smart one, dude.”

“Then god help us all,” Finn says good-naturedly, before handing his microphone to Santana.

“Finn didn’t beat me by much in terms of school,” Santana says first. “Hi, I’m Santana Lopez, and I just got my third and final Master’s last week, in non-profit management. My first two were one-year programs at Cambridge. I’ve done a few internships and starting next month, I’ll be working as an entertainment media strategist for GLAAD, out in LA.” She turns towards Kurt and raises her eyebrows with a grin. “Which means I’ll be watching you to see how you portray members of the community, Hummel.”

Kurt laughs and takes the microphone. “You’d do that anyway. Hi, I’m Kurt Hummel. I attended Marymount Manhattan here in the city and got my BA in Theatre with dual concentrations in writing for the stage and acting, along with a musical theatre minor. I attended Tisch and earned an MFA in musical theatre writing, and then spent a few years in the Lehman-Engel Workshop and our one-act, _Small Town_ , running off-Broadway. And then six months ago, _Milk_ opened, and here we are. The show as a whole is nominated for fourteen Tonys, and my name is actually listed on three of those nominations.” Kurt turns towards Tina and hands her the microphone. 

“Kurt, how am I supposed to follow that?” She asks, giggling momentarily. “Hi, I’m Tina Cohen-Chang, and I’m actually one of their lawyers. If you try to sue _Milk_ , eventually you’re going to talk to me. I did my undergrad at Wellesley and then attended Columbia Law School, where I got the John Ordronaux Prize for the highest GPA, as well as the Ruth Bader Ginsburg Prize, which I like to say because of her being a Supreme Court justice. I do specialize in intellectual property, specifically entertainment law, and I live here in the city, with Mike. But my name’s always been Cohen-Chang.”

Mercedes laughs as she reaches for the microphone. “Hi, I’m Mercedes Jones.” There’s some applause from around the house, and Mercedes smiles. “Thank you. I’ve been featured on several artists’ tracks, as well as releasing two of my own albums, one of which won a Dove Award and was nominated for a Grammy.” She starts to hand Noah the microphone, then stops and laughs. “Nevermind, you’ve got one!”

“Hey, Schue,” Noah starts. “I bet you were doing process of elimination to figure out who that curly-headed guy was.”

“I wasn’t!” Schue protests faintly. 

“Yeah, sure,” Noah says with a grin. “But hi. I’m Noah Hummel. I went to Mannes and studied composition, then Tisch for musical theatre writing, and after a lot of schmoozing and just plain begging—okay, not too much begging—we ended up opening _Milk_ here. Like Kurt said, we’ve got a total of fourteen Tony nominations, and also like Kurt, I’m listed specifically on three of them. I don’t know what happens if one of us brings home two and the other one brings home three.” He stops and grins at Kurt, who’s laughing. “And before I continue, I’m going to tell Rachel and Kurt they should probably head backstage, before our stage manager comes out here and drags them back there.”

Kurt and Rachel both wave at Schue, then go off stage, and Noah turns back to the audience. “So hopefully you’ll enjoy our little show here. We wanted to make sure everyone who traveled here for the show choir competition got to see a musical on Broadway, and everything came together really well, so please be sure and thank the national committee. Thanks for listening to us, and I’d say that we want all of you to perform well, but of course we’re holding out for the home team, so to speak.” Noah turns off the microphone and hands it off, watching everyone start to walk off the stage, along with Schue. 

Finn lingers at the edge of the stage and when Noah looks in his direction, Finn points at Noah and then points down at the ground. Noah shrugs. Finn repeats the series of gestures, this time with an almost Kurt-like expression of bossiness on his face. Noah snorts and walks towards Finn. “Who do you think you are, bossofus?” Noah asks, even though he wouldn’t usually refer to Kurt that way. 

“Somebody has to make you sit down,” Finn says. “Kurt’s backstage, so that means the burden falls on me.”

Noah grins. “Luckily, that’s your job. Heavy burdens and everything.”

“If you think I’m carrying you off this stage, you’re crazy.”

“Dammit, I was counting on it.”

Finn laughs. “Maybe after everybody else leaves.”

 

Kurt is sure that he did, at some point, know who had suggested karaoke after the performance. He no longer remembers, though it seems like an even better idea than it did initially. The twelve of them, Syd, Brittany’s husband Danny, and Lauren, all at the karaoke bar and a little bit taking over the main stage area. 

“It’s too bad Schue didn’t want to come,” Kurt says to Sam, who’s sitting next to him at that moment. “He and Rachel could have reenacted their duet. Did you see that, or was that sophomore year?”

“I only saw them sing that weird TV show song,” Sam says. “I think I’m going to find cab and take a Mercedes to the hotel.”

“Find Mercedes and take a cab? Okay. Night, Sam!”

Sam stands up, and Kurt looks around at the rest of them. Noah is still talking to Brittany about cats, and how Persians and Himalayans are related or something. Kurt is sure Noah’s already shown Brittany pictures of Ennis. He sees Sam find Mercedes, and the two of them do leave together, which makes Kurt giggle. Tina is trying to get Mike to sing, and Mike looks very drunk. 

Kurt examines his glass critically. He knows he’s drunk, though not as drunk as he could be, and not as drunk as Rachel seems when she drops down beside him a few moments later. 

“Kurt! You need to sing,” she says. “You have to! There’s so many good songs.” 

“I don’t know, Rachel,” Kurt protests half-heartedly. “We sing every night.”

“But not like this. Not with our old friends, just singing our memories.”

“This isn’t _Cats_.”

“Of course not, silly!” Rachel laughs, the sound just a little too high. “If you won’t sing, maybe I should see if they have ‘Faithfully’. Finn and I could do it now!”

“No.” Kurt can feel his eyes widen. “I’ll go find something,” he promises, standing up and walking past where Finn is sitting, listening to Artie and Lauren and drinking something that’s likely a scotch and soda, since that’s what Finn often orders when they’re out with a group. It does make it sound more like a cocktail and less like hard liquor, which is likely why Finn does it. Without even really looking up, Finn puts out his hand, the back of it sliding along Kurt’s thigh as Kurt passes. Kurt smiles to himself and starts to look through the list of songs available. 

He shudders a little at the thought of ‘Faithfully’; he doesn’t detest it the way Noah does, because it’s probably not possible to hate it as much as Noah does, but it’s still not something he wants to endure. He thinks about singing with Finn himself, however briefly, earlier, and finally a title catches his eyes. Kurt smiles slowly, smirking a bit as he looks back at Rachel, and he types in his choice and waits for his turn. 

It’s been a long time since he’s heard the song without seeking it out to listen to it, and much longer since he’s heard someone sing it live, but it seems appropriate. 

_When you try your best, but you don’t succeed_

Kurt sings through the first verse without looking at Finn, not until the end of it, when he ends up staring at him. 

_When you love someone, but it goes to waste_  
Could it be worse?  
Lights will guide you home  
And ignite your bones  
And I will try to fix you 

Kurt can feel the rest of them staring, but he doesn’t particularly care, and Finn’s watching him with a soft little smile. 

_And high up above or down below_  
When you're too in love to let it go  
But if you never try you'll never know  
Just what you're worth 

When Kurt starts the chorus again, he can faintly hear Finn harmonizing with him, and he smiles. The instrumental bridge is long, and there are a few people talking while it plays, but Kurt keeps his eyes on Finn. Finn’s face slowly changes, losing the nostalgia, and Kurt knows his own expression is shifting as well. 

Finn doesn’t keep singing after the bridge ends, not until Kurt is six lines in. Finn looks almost teary-eyed as they sing the line together. 

_I promise you I will learn from my mistakes._

He doesn’t look like he’s been drinking, though, and Kurt smiles faintly again as the room falls silent with the music quieting. 

_Lights will guide you home_  
And ignite your bones  
And I will try to fix you 

Kurt puts the microphone down gently and walks towards Finn, still maintaining eye contact, and while there’s a small part of his brain insisting he should stop, he doesn’t. He grabs the front of Finn’s shirt with one hand, threads the fingers of his other hand through Finn’s hair, and brings their mouths together. Finn’s arms immediately encircle Kurt’s waist, pulling him closer and deepening the kiss. 

A few moments pass before Noah coughs once. “Blue eyes?” he says, sounding amused, and then his voice is closer and softer. “We’re not at a club, so if we get naked, we might actually get arrested.”

Kurt moves his hand from Finn’s shirt to take Noah’s hand, and pulls back slowly, his fingers lingering in Finn’s hair. “Why isn’t anyone singing?”

 

Finn lets his arms slide along Kurt’s back until his hands are loosely resting on Kurt’s hips. He doesn’t immediately register Kurt’s question, in part because he isn’t sure why anyone else _would_ be singing.

“Huh?” Finn asks Kurt. “Singing?”

“I finished, so it’s someone else’s turn,” Kurt says, frowning a little. 

“That’d be because they’re all staring at the two of you. And me, too,” Puck adds, whispering. “I think they think I’m about to try to punch one of you or something.” 

“Punch one of us?” Finn repeats, looking over at Puck in confusion. 

“Not Mike or Tina. Because the two of you?” Puck raises an eyebrow, about to laugh. 

“Oh, we are sort of… in public,” Kurt says, looking around. “I’ve either had too much to drink or I need another drink.”

“We’re in a karaoke bar,” Finn says, nodding his head. “With people. People who know us. Well, shit.” He doesn’t actually move his hands off of Kurt’s hips, though, because Kurt hasn’t moved away yet, so Finn doesn’t think there’s any good reason to relocate his hands. 

“Finn!” Rachel screeches, her voice getting closer. “What… what was the meaning of that!”

Kurt turns and looks at her. “You told me I should sing, Rachel.”

“Not like that!” Rachel stares at Finn. “Well, Finn?”

“He sang me a song,” Finn says, less as an explanation and more as a statement of fact.

“And if, if.” Rachel looks around and then stops. “If Noah sang you a song, would you kiss him like that?”

Finn has to stop and consider that question for a moment, because there’s clearly a right answer here, but he doesn’t really feel like giving it, so instead he asks, “Well, what song are we talking about?”

Artie and Lauren both whoop with laughter, and Finn turns to give them a big, drunk grin. Rachel doesn’t seem very impressed by that answer, though. 

“This is unacceptable!” Rachel announces, throwing her arms over her head. “What song.”

“Maybe ‘Faithfully’,” Puck suggests, chuckling. “That’s a good duet, right?”

“Noah, I cannot believe you are not simply livid,” Rachel says, turning to him. “My husband and your husband were just making out in front of us!”

“Hey, Puck, you remember that time Mr. Schue did the duet of ‘Dream On’ with that creepy guy who took over glee club for a while?” Finn asks Puck.

“Ooh, he brought those jean jackets,” Kurt says with a little sigh. 

Puck rolls his eyes at Rachel. “They’re both drunk, Rachel. Look at ’em. Kurt’s about to drag some of us off in pursuit of bedazzled denim, and Finn’d probably buy a bedazzler factory, as drunk as he is.”

“You’re so casual about this,” Rachel says. “Oh, are you trying to.” She lowers her voice dramatically. “Not make a scene?”

“Sure,” Puck says slowly. “That’s what I’m doing.” 

“Perhaps you and I should go outside, Finn,” Rachel says, turning back towards him. 

“Should I go outside?” Finn asks Kurt.

Kurt leans to whisper in Finn’s ear. “If you do, you should have a cigarette while you’re out there. And blow it in her face.” He stops and pulls back. “Maybe so. We’ll be in here watching.” Kurt turns to the stage and smiles. “Watching Brittany sing!”

“Ok, that sounds good,” Finn says. He stands up slowly, straightening out his clothes so he has a second to not look like Kurt was just all up in his business, then follows Rachel to the exit. Once they’ve stepped outside, Finn pulls out a pack of cigarettes and lights one. He doesn’t blow the smoke in Rachel’s direction, but he doesn’t make much of an effort to blow it away from her, either. “Ok, we’re outside.”

“Finn, why would you humiliate me like that? I am your wife! And you were just kissing your _stepbrother_! In front of all our old friends!”

Finn takes another drag of his cigarette, exhaling slowly. “So, would it be ok if he wasn’t my stepbrother? I’m kinda confused right now.”

“What? No, of course it wouldn’t be. That’s— that was cheating. On me.” She lifts her chin and sets her jaw, like that makes her claim inarguable.

“So, where was it you said you were going after karaoke tonight?” Finn asks mildly. “Drinks with people from the show?”

“What about it?”

“Tell Zachary hi for me,” Finn says. He exhales another puff of smoke. “Give him a great big kiss for me, even.”

Rachel’s nostrils flare, and she crosses her arms across her chest. “Don’t embarrass me like that again, Finn.”

“This is the life you wanted,” Finn tells her. “Enjoy.” He drops the cigarette on the ground and grinds it out with his toe, then picks up the butt and tosses it into the trash. 

Rachel huffs again, then turns on her heel and stalks back into the karaoke bar. Finn shrugs and lights another cigarette. A few moments pass, and Rachel comes back out, this time holding her purse, and she doesn’t say anything to him as she turns and heads towards the subway stop at the end of the block. 

After Finn finishes his cigarette, he goes back into the karaoke bar, stopping to order a scotch—no soda—from the bartender before sitting back down next to Artie. 

“Everything okay with you?” Artie asks.

Finn nods over his glass as he takes a drink. “Yeah, Rach had someplace to be. Did I miss all of Brittany’s song?” He looks up at the front of the room, where Brittany, Santana, and Brittany’s confused-looking husband are adjusting microphones.

“Hey,” Puck says, coming up beside Finn. “K says you and I should sing something. I think he might be more drunk than I realized.”

“We should totally sing,” Finn says. “That sounds like the best idea ever!”

Puck laughs and puts his hand on Finn’s shoulder, the tips of his fingers slowly making a circle on Finn’s neck. “Any suggestions for what we should sing?” 

“Let’s scroll through the list until we find something,” Finn suggests. “You might need to do the reading part, though. Everything’s a little wiggly.”

“Yeah, okay,” Puck agrees, tugging Finn up out of the chair. “I was kidding earlier, though. No ‘Faithfully’.”

“Good, ’cause I was gonna tell you no fucking way,” Finn says, laughing. They stare at the screen while scrolling through the long list of available songs. “We should do something old school.”

“Hmm. What about some Killers?” Puck says, stopping the screen. “Not ‘Human’, though, ’cause we’d get half of ’em trying to dance.”

Finn points to a song about a third of the way down. “This?”

“Sounds good,” Puck agrees, selecting it. Kurt looks up when the music starts and smiles at them, and Puck starts singing the first lines of ‘Read My Mind’. Finn and Puck pretty much rock the song, though it’s possible Finn’s perception is a little skewed from the combination of scotch and Kurt making sex eyes at them the whole time. 

When they’re done, they walk back towards Kurt, who stands up and grabs their hands. “Let’s go home and fuck,” he announces in a very not-quiet voice. “Because you are mine.”

“He’s been repeating that,” Syd says dryly from where she’s sitting. “He’s drunk, the two of you are hot, and you belong to him.”

Finn just grins at Syd and shrugs theatrically. “What’re you gonna do? The truth’s the truth!”

“See?” Kurt says triumphantly, and he leads them out of the bar. “Hannah’s staying all night with Eliza,” he reminds Finn. “You don’t have to leave.”

“I love this night,” Finn declares. “I want to have this night once a week.”

 

Noah wakes up after the sun’s been up for awhile, but Finn and Kurt are still passed out in bed, and by the time Noah finishes showering, Kurt is on top of Finn. He’s either using Finn as a mattress or wanted a piggy-back ride in his sleep, but either way, Noah grins and goes down the hall to make some coffee. 

He thinks about going out to get some breakfast, but by the time they’re up, brunch would probably make more sense, or just waiting for lunch, which in theory they’re having with some of the out of towners. In the end, Noah just takes his mug and his tablet back to the bedroom, and he catches up on the news before going over to the gossip sites. Usually there’s not too much about Broadway, unless he goes to a few specific sites, but three sites in, Noah starts laughing. 

“Our karaoke made an impression,” he mutters to himself, scanning the article and then sending the link to everyone else, including Finn, because leaving off both Kurt and Finn would probably seem odd. He finishes the article and then sets the tablet down. Nothing about Kurt and Finn kissing, or Rachel blowing up afterward; while Finn and Rachel were outside, Noah, with Tina’s help, had made sure everyone still there understood that karaoke was now like Vegas: what happened at karaoke stayed at karaoke.

Noah sits for a few minutes, drinking his coffee, then laughs out loud. “Remind me to tell you two when you wake up,” he says. “We should just plan now for the fifteen-year reunion to have an outing, and tell the paps ahead of time.”


	4. The 76th Annual Tony Awards

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Live from Radio City Music Hall, the 76th Annual Tony Awards, hosted by Neil Patrick Harris

Noah watches Kurt stare into the mirror for a few moments before he crosses the bedroom and picks up Kurt’s tie. “C’mon, blue eyes. You look great.”

Kurt exhales and turns towards him, and Noah grins and starts to tie Kurt’s tie. “How are you so calm?” Kurt asks. 

“Better living through chemistry, K.” Noah finishes, smoothing his hand down over the tie, and leans in for a kiss. Kurt’s hand goes into his hair, but Noah keeps his hands on the back of Kurt’s tuxedo; it’s a lot harder to mess up Noah’s hair. 

“The girls will be here any minute,” Kurt says, leaning his head against Noah’s shoulder. 

“Yeah, Hannah’s punctual, at least.” With both of them being nominees, they have two extra tickets for the Tony Awards, and after a brief discussion, and confirming that Finn would be attending with Rachel, they had decided to take Hannah and Beth. Kurt had insisted on helping both girls find the appropriate attire, via the internet for Beth, and Hannah had declared she would get dressed at Beth and Shelby’s hotel, then bring Beth back with her to meet the car at the apartment. 

“This is so strange. A year ago, we were closing _Small Town_ , wondering what would happen next, and we didn’t even watch the Tonys. And tonight, we could win one.”

“Or more,” Noah can’t resist pointing out. They stand there for a few moments longer, until they hear the door open, and Hannah’s voice following. 

“We’re ready!”

“Time to go escort the belles to the ball,” Kurt says, straightening and brushing off Noah’s jacket, then his own. 

Hannah and Beth are standing in the living room, and Beth twirls when she spots Kurt and Noah. “It fits perfectly!” 

“I’m glad,” Kurt says. 

“And Hannah let me put on a little makeup,” Beth continues. “She said it was just enough to— what did you say?”

“Bring out your eyes,” Hannah supplies. “It’s not much, but since we have the same skin tone, all of my stuff works for her.”

“You look beautiful,” Noah tells Beth. “And you don’t look too bad either, Hannah.”

“Thanks.” Hannah wrinkles her nose. “And we coordinate very well, Kurt.”

“That was my intention,” Kurt says wryly. “But yes, we all do.” Hannah’s dark purple dress, Beth’s lighter purple dress, Kurt’s dark purple tie, and Noah’s own lighter purple tie at the very least give the impression of people who planned to attend the same event together. 

“I saw the car outside,” Beth tells them. “Unless someone else in this building is being chauffeured somewhere tonight.”

“Possible, but not likely,” Noah says, then offers her his arm. “Shall we?”

“Certainly.” Beth takes his arm and laughs. “Mom said to tell you she’s going to watch the whole thing on television.”

“Did she decide to watch with Burt and Carole and Audrey, at the Beechman?” Noah asks. 

“She didn’t say,” Hannah answers. “I think she was concerned about getting from the Beechman to either Radio City or the Plaza, but I told her just to send me a message, I’d let her know where we were, and she could take a cab instead of trying to figure out the subway.” 

“Yeah, the Beechman’s not that close to a stop,” Noah says, nodding and holding the door for everyone as they head outside. One of the couples from the floor below them is heading in, and the woman smiles. 

“Oh, you’re all so dressed up! Heading to a party?”

“The Tonys,” Kurt explains. 

“The actual Tonys? Not a party?” she asks. 

Hannah laughs. “They’re nominated! Go root for _Milk_ ,” she adds as the chauffeur opens the door for them. 

“And here we’d made it so long,” Noah says mournfully, settling back against the seat and picking up Kurt’s hand as the driver closes the doors and starts the car. “Now the whole building’s going to want tickets.” 

 

Finn stuffs his tie into his pocket before he calls out to Rachel, “Syd just checked in. She’ll have Eliza with Mom and Dad in ten minutes.”

“Oh, okay!” Rachel calls back. “That’s right, I’d forgotten Eliza was going to go to that party with them.”

“We talked about it five times already,” Finn grumbles to himself. He finishes buttoning his shirt, all but the top two, which he’ll save for Puck to do up along with tying the tie. He steps into the bedroom, where Rachel is still getting dressed. “Is the car here yet?”

“It is, I told him it would just be another few minutes,” Rachel says, stepping into hot pink heels that match her hot pink dress. “I just have to finish getting my jewelry on.” 

“I’m going to go on down.” 

Rachel doesn’t answer, so Finn tucks a pack of cigarettes and his lighter into the inside pocket of his jacket and goes down to the street. He half-salutes the driver and lights a cigarette while he waits for Rachel to finally finish getting dressed so they can leave. She doesn’t come down for close to ten minutes, and when she does, she looks impatiently at Finn, like he’s the one who’s been holding them up. 

“Finn, you can’t go without a tie.” She sighs. “Do I have to wait on you to go back upstairs?”

“Nope, I’m good to go,” Finn says. He opens the car door and lets Rachel climb in first, which is harder than normal, since she has on the ridiculous high heels. “Did you get stuck on something in there?”

Rachel glares at him over her shoulder. “This dress isn’t easy to move in, you know.”

“Do you need a boost?” Finn offers, trying to hide his desire to laugh behind his hand. 

“No!” Rachel sits down with a huff, and after Finn is sitting down and the driver closes the door, she glares at Finn. “Are you really going to the Tony Awards like that, Finn?”

“I was planning on going in this car,” Finn shrugs. “Wasn’t sure I’d ever get to get in, though.”

Rachel rolls her eyes and sets her jaw, looking out the window away from Finn. Finn raises and lowers his window a few times, then he calls up to the driver, “Is it ok if I smoke in here?”

“Not supposed to,” the driver answers, then shrugs. “Keep the window cracked.”

“Thanks, man,” Finn says, lighting a cigarette. 

“Now I’m going to stink,” Rachel complains. “And the wind from the window is going to mess up my hair.”

“Nobody’ll notice I’m not wearing a tie, then,” Finn says, looking out the window as he smokes. 

“ _I_ should have offered to take Hannah,” Rachel mutters under her breath. “The two of you would have liked that.” 

“Me and Hannah?” Finn asks. He knows that’s not what she means.

Rachel rolls her eyes. “Like you don’t know I mean you and Kurt.”

“So, how’s Zachary’s new place look?” Finn asks. “Did he go with the Japanese shit he was talking about or did he stick with the Danish modern?”

“Oh, there’s Radio City!” Rachel says, pasting on her public smile. “It’ll be so nice to see everyone.”

“Yeah. Game day faces,” Finn answers. The car rolls to a stop in front of Radio City, and the driver opens the door for Finn and Rachel. Finn offers Rachel his arm. “Don’t get stuck this time.”

“Thank you for your concern,” Rachel says through her clenched teeth. “Oh, there’s the Hummels.”

“Yep, there they are,” Finn agrees. He catches Puck’s eye and grins at him, gesturing to his own neck and then his pocket. Puck laughs, then holds up his finger. “This is gonna be a fun night.”

“I’m hoping for a _successful_ night,” Rachel says, still smiling almost painfully.

“Don’t worry, Rach,” Finn says, giving the crowd a toothy smile. “I’m sure _Milk_ is going to be really successful.”

“I meant—” Rachel cuts herself off. “I’m going to go say hello to a few people. I’m sure you can find your way into our assigned seats.”

“If I get lost, I’m sure Kurt can help me find it,” Finn replies. 

“I’m sure,” Rachel mutters, then walks away. 

“Hi, darling,” Puck says quietly from behind Finn. “Need some assistance?”

“Hey!” Finn turns and grabs Puck into a hug. “You look so damn good. And yeah, tie’s in my pocket.”

“Thanks.” Puck reaches into Finn’s pocket and pulls out the tie, then flips up Finn’s collar and starts fastening the top two buttons. “Syd hand off Eliza already? Shelby hadn’t decided if she was going down to the Beechman or not.”

“I haven’t gotten the text yet, but she should be there by now,” Finn says. “Burt’s probably got Syd involved in some kind of conversation about wills or one of his employees’ divorce.”

“Oh, I figured Burt’d be teaching Eliza to stand up and yell ‘that’s my uncle!’” Puck finishes tying the tie and straightens Finn’s collar. “I think we’re being watched, so can you take a rain check on the kiss?”

“This place has bathrooms, right?”

Puck laughs. “Yeah, I’d hope so.”

“Then I’ll take my rain check there in fifteen minutes,” Finn says. “Ok?”

“I hope we find the same bathroom,” Puck says, still grinning. “C’mon, want to strike a pose with us?”

“Sure. Been awhile since I worked a rope line!”

Puck takes Finn’s hand and leads him through the growing crowd to Kurt, Hannah, and Beth. “Found him,” Puck says. “Ready?”

“I would say let’s do this thing,” Kurt says with a laugh, “but that’s your line, baby.”

 

The red carpet is a lot more crowded than Noah expected, for some reason, and they make it about halfway down before a reporter stops them, and the five of them bunch up around the reporter. 

“Kurt and Noah Hummel!” the reporter says. “You looking forward to the awards tonight?”

“Yeah, definitely,” Noah answers. “And hopefully some celebrating afterwards.”

“So is it really true you’ve been working on _Milk_ for ten years?” the reporter asks. “That’s a long haul.”

“I think it’s only now ten years?” Kurt says. “So not quite, when we opened. But yes, nearly ten years. We’ve been very excited to get to share it at last.”

“And it’s been very well received, so hopefully you’ll see some reward for all that hard work tonight.” The reporter turns to the girls. “And who are your dates tonight?”

“This is my sister, Hannah,” Noah says, nodding at Hannah. “And this is my daughter, Beth.” Noah and Shelby had had a discussion about the answer to that question, and if the reporter asks any kind of follow-up, Noah has at least the beginning of a response prepared, mentioning open adoption.

“Now, Noah, some of us noticed you fixing this tall guy here’s tie,” the reporter says, gesturing at Finn. “Is he a member of the _Milk_ cast.”

“Nope,” Finn says. “The don’t let me be in their show because I’m too tall.”

“This is our brother, Finn,” Kurt tells the reporter. “And it’s difficult for Finn to tie his own tie, because, ah. Because of his shoulder.” Kurt smiles brightly at the reporter again, clearly trying to gauge his interest and skepticism. “Finn sustained a severe shoulder injury while he was playing for the Bears.”

“Oh, interesting,” the reporter notes. “Well, best of luck to all of you tonight.”

“Thank you,” Kurt says, and Noah echoes his thanks as they continue down the red carpet. Before they can escape, they’re herded into the line to have a picture taken in front of the official backdrop, and then finally there are fewer cameras on them. 

“There’s a bathroom,” Noah says to Finn, inclining his head. 

“And here my mom always told me I should go before I left the house,” Finn says. 

“Oh, well, suit yourself, but _I’m_ going to be in there.”

“I’m going to be in there, too. You know I always ignored my mom about that kind of stuff.”

Noah grins. “Yeah, and it’s working out for you, isn’t it?” Noah heads into the bathroom and leans against the wall, waiting for Finn to walk in. Finn enters the bathroom and walks past Noah, grabbing him by the tie and pulling him along into a stall, then latching the door behind them.

“So, raincheck time?” Finn asks.

“I think so, yeah.” Noah puts one hand on the back of Finn’s neck, resting his other hand on Finn’s chest, and pulls Finn into a kiss. Finn buries both his hands in Noah’s hair and tugs while they’re kissing. Noah deepens the kiss, running his tongue along Finn’s lips and then sliding into Finn’s mouth. 

The bathroom door opens, and Noah pulls back slowly, trying not to laugh. The person walks across the bathroom floor, and then back to the sinks, then starts to laugh. 

“Someone having some pre-Tony fun?” a relatively familiar voice says. 

“It could be argued that I’m your boss, Leslie,” Noah responds. 

“I— oh, sorry!” Leslie says quickly. “I’ll just go now.” The door opens and closes again, and Noah turns to look at Finn before starting to laugh. 

“You think he saw K out there and just got real confused?” Noah asks. 

“Poor Leslie,” Finn says, shaking his head. “Such a nice kid, too.”

“Well, he did decide to say something?” Noah says, unlocking the stall and walking past the mirror. “You look a little bit rumpled, dude.”

“I’m going for a lived-in look this year. I’ve heard it’s very in,” Finn says in a faux-serious tone.

Noah grins and opens the door to head back out of the bathroom. “What’s the line? It’d look better on my floor?”

“We’ll have to try that theory out later,” Finn says. 

“Yeah, we will.” Noah straightens himself a little and stops just outside the bathroom door. “ _Now_ I’m gonna say it. Let’s do this thing.” 

 

Before the show even begins, Kurt gets weird looks shot at him from Rachel, and it takes five minutes to establish that they’re going to sit in the exact order that was first proposed: Rachel on the aisle, next to Finn, then Kurt and Noah, with Beth beside Noah and Hannah on the other side of Beth. The rest of the row is filled in with other people from the show, as well as at least two rows behind them. 

“How come we’ve never come to see the Rockettes?” Beth asks, looking around. “The first time I’m at Radio City Music Hall, and you bring me here for an awards show instead of the Rockettes!”

“Oh, sure, complain about that,” Noah says to her with a laugh. “Maybe this year, then.” 

“Well, Kurt,” Rachel says suddenly, “I suppose your moment of truth will come quickly! Only Mike has less time to wait than you, and of course, the technical awards don’t tend to predict the big winners in the same way.”

“I’m hoping everyone affiliated with the show is successful, of course,” Kurt says, and he knows there’s an edge to his voice. “Of course, we have doubled our chances with Featured Actor.”

“Jamie’ll feel better about losing if it’s to you, I’m sure of it,” Noah says with a grin. 

“Oh, definitely,” Kurt says, then stops as the house lights dim and the introductory video begins to play. It takes him a few minutes to realize that yes, everyone in it has become a hobbit. 

When the performance from _There and Back Again_ ends with the emergence of a non-hobbit Neil Patrick Harris, Noah leans over. “I think they’re taking the hobbits somewhere,” he whispers. 

“Shh!” Kurt shushes him, trying not to giggle. This year’s comedic opening number has the refrain of ‘In two decades, I’ll remake it better than you!’, which does seem to be an assertion that plenty of people involved with Broadway would thoroughly agree with. In the midst of the number, a strangely familiar blonde woman appears. 

“Noah,” Kurt says slowly. “Finn. Is that…?”

“April Rhodes!” Finn says, a little too loudly. “She doesn’t look any older at all.”

“I had no idea,” Kurt says faintly. “That’s quite a coincidence.”

“If anyone asks, we didn’t know we were from the same town,” Noah hisses. 

One of the awards for plays is the very first Tony of the night, and then a synopsis of _Fenway_ is given before some of their cast does a musical number. When the Tony Award people had contacted them regarding what song from _Milk_ they wanted to do during their slot, Kurt had been quick to declare that it needed to be a song that he was not in, no matter what. It was too much for one evening, and even if he could have managed all of it, he didn’t really want to spend the time changing and performing. 

The presenter steps up to announce the winner for Best Choreography, and Kurt realizes with slight dismay that he’s actually holding his breath. She reads the nominees again, everyone clapping for each of them, then she pauses. “And the American Theatre Wing’s Tony Award for Best Choreography goes to… Mike Chang, _Milk_.”

Their rows erupt into cheers and applause, and Mike quickly makes his way up to the stage. He takes the Tony with a grin and then approaches the microphone. 

“Incredible. Hi. Of course, I’d like to thank the cast, the crew, and the production team of _Milk_ , and my Tina. But I’d like to take this opportunity to make something clear.” He looks directly at Kurt and his grin gets wider. “Kurt Hummel changed my life.” 

“Oh dear,” Kurt murmurs under his breath as he returns the smile. 

“In the autumn of 2009, I had never danced outside my room. I played football for my high school's team. The quarterback was a guy named Finn Hudson, the running back was a dude with a mohawk named Noah Puckerman, and one day day Kurt Hummel showed up and announced he was auditioning for the role of kicker.” He pauses for the room to laugh. “Consequently, the first time I danced outside my room, I was in a full football uniform and pads, and we were dancing to 'Single Ladies'. Because of that performance, my friend Matt and I, and that Puckerman dude, all joined the glee club. Noah, Kurt, I don't think any of us had any idea where we'd end up. From the bottom of my heart, thank you.” 

As everyone claps, Kurt holds up his left hand and moves it like the ‘Single Ladies’ dance, and Mike catches sight of him and does the same thing as he’s escorted off the stage. The applause barely dies down before Neil Patrick Harris is introducing the next presenter, who starts reading the nominees for Best Actor in a Featured Role in a Musical. Kurt reaches to either side of him, gripping Noah and Finn’s hands tightly as she reads the names. 

“And the American Theatre Wing’s Tony Award goes to Kurt Hummel, _Milk_.”

“Kurt!” Finn says. “You won! You won, Kurt! Did you hear him? You won!”

“Yes,” Kurt manages, getting to his feet and heading up onto the stage. He stands at the microphone and takes a deep breath. “First, thank you all, very much.” He pauses and looks down for a second before continuing. “I want to thank so many people—my family, of course, both those here and those watching elsewhere; the rest of the _Milk_ cast and crew, who make it quite a bit of fun to come to work each day; all of my teachers and professors over the years, even the one that told me I had limited marketability; and our first little New York family, Allison, Ben, Zachary, Tori. And, of course, my biggest thanks, my darling, my baby—I love you.” 

The advantage to limiting his usage of ‘darling’ is that few people realize he wasn’t listing two names for Noah, and Kurt smiles at both of them before turning to walk off the stage. 

“Well, the big guy is certainly excited for you,” Neil Patrick Harris says he walks back onto the stage, and when Kurt glances over his shoulder, he sees Finn halfway out of his seat, applauding wildly and whooping periodically. Noah is grinning and laughing, the rest of the _Milk_ contingent is obviously happy, and Rachel looks resigned, almost glaring at Finn from the corner of her eyes. 

Kurt stops backstage for the requisite photographs and initial brief interview before being escorted back into the house during the performance by the cast of the revival of _Xanadu_. 

“ _Now_ the pressure’s on,” Noah jokes in a whisper as Kurt sits back down. 

“They don’t let you keep the trophy?” Finn whispers from Kurt’s other side. 

“We’d never be able to walk down the row by the end of the night,” Kurt says, trying not to laugh. “All the trophies in the floor.”

“And here to present the award for Best Orchestration, past winner and world-renowned piano man, Billy Joel.”

Noah lets out a sound that Kurt can only describe as a slight whimper, and Kurt squeezes his hand as Billy Joel reads out the names of the nominees. “The American Theatre Wing’s Tony Award for Best Orchestration goes to…” Billy Joel opens the folder, reads it, and almost pauses before looking up again and speaking into the microphone. “Noah Hummel, _Milk_.”

Kurt squeezes Noah’s hand again and grins at him as he stands up. Finn whoops again and punches the air, once again halfway out of his seat as Noah walks up to the stage and accepts the Tony from Billy Joel. Kurt’s not sure if Noah’s more stunned about winning or about accepting it from Billy Joel, but either way, he stands in front of the microphone for a few seconds before speaking. 

“There are two thoughts running through my head right now,” he begins. “One, that was— I just accepted an award from Billy Joel. And two, at least the mantel isn’t going to look lopsided.” Noah stops as everyone laughs. “No, really,” he protests to more laughter. “Okay, a lot of people to thank. Everyone that’s been a part of _Milk_ , from the first workshop through now; everyone who’s come to see the show; my Nana, who’s probably going to go around showing people my fifth-grade pictures again after this; Shelby and Beth; Hannah and all of you absolutely amazing women who have helped us with her; David Tcimpidis and the rest of the faculty at Mannes; all of our professors at Tisch; the facilitators of the Lehman Engel Workshop; our friends and family; and, oh.” Noah stops suddenly and Kurt wonders if that’s the moment Noah realizes there’s not an easy way to include Finn properly. “Sorry. My best friend since first grade, and Kurt. Thank you.” 

The evening-gown wearing women escort Noah off the stage, and Neil Patrick Harris smiles widely. “You really can’t say that the younger generation isn’t excited about theatre, now can you? Especially the big guy down on my left.” The camera pans over towards them, and when Finn’s face appears on the screens at the sides of the stage, he waves. 

The next musical number begins, and after a few more minutes, Noah slides back into their row. “Billy Joel,” he whispers. “Billy fucking Joel!”

Kurt giggles. “I know, baby.” He turns back to the stage as the nominees for Best Director are named, clapping a bit harder when Angela’s name is mentioned. Like Noah had said on the day nominations were announced, very few women have won Best Director, and Kurt realizes he’s holding his breath again. 

“And the American Theatre Wing’s Tony Award goes to… Angela McIntyre, for _Milk_!”

“Yes!” Noah says as he starts clapping, and Angela looks overwhelmed when Kurt peers behind him. 

“Whoo!” Finn hollers. “Go Angela!”

Kurt laughs and watches Angela’s face not look appreciably less stunned as she continues onto the stage and then in front of the microphone. “I really didn’t expect this,” she confesses, staring at the Tony. “I don’t know where to begin.” She manages to get through an acceptance speech, though, before heading backstage with her eyes still wide. 

The next two awards are for plays, interspersed with two additional performances, and Kurt relaxes a little before he hears Neil Patrick Harris announcing the presenter for Best Book. 

“All of you should be excited about this award,” he says. “Why? Because the Hummels are nominated for _Milk_ , and I can’t wait to see what the big guy does if they win.”

The camera pans to Finn, and his laughing face again appears on both screens flanking the stage. Rachel’s grimace is just visible on his left side, though she plasters on a smile when she notices herself on camera. Kurt briefly feels sorry for the presenters, having to follow up the combination of Harris and Hudson, but they wisely don’t even try, just proceed to read the nominees clearly. 

“And the Tony Award goes to… Kurt and Noah Hummel, _Milk_.”

Kurt doesn’t really have time to process that before Finn does a double air-punch and calls out, “Yeah! That’s my boys!”

“Oh, god,” Kurt groans, shaking his head at Finn as he and Noah scoot past. “Really, darling?” Rachel gives Kurt a sharp look at that, and he just smiles, standing in the aisle until Noah joins him and takes his hand as they walk up the stairs. 

“This one’s all K,” Noah says into the microphone, and then steps to the side. 

“You might regret that one, baby,” Kurt says with a smirk. “Just in case it wasn’t clear from what Mike Chang said earlier, that mohawk-sporting running back that went by the name of ‘Puck’ is this one standing with me. We’ve managed to come a very, very long way from that day on the football field, and I’m not just talking about the six hundred miles between Lima and New York City.” He stops and grins at Noah, who is also grinning and shaking his head slowly. “And not just the hair you’ve grown either. It’s been a wild, crazy ride for the past eleven years—and yes, Finn, I know it’s June—and just think? We get to keep doing this for years.”

They turn to leave the stage, but Neil Patrick Harris stops them. “Who exactly is the big guy?” he asks. 

“That’s our brother,” Noah answers. “Finn ‘Bluebird’ Hudson. Used to play quarterback for the Bears.”

“Well, big guy, Finn,” Neil Patrick Harris says, “we’re all glad you gave up a promising football career to become a cheerleader of theatre!” Finn’s grin widens and he gives Neil Patrick Harris two thumbs up. 

Kurt and Noah are still backstage as they announce the winner for Best Sound Design, though _Milk_ loses to the revival of _Bring in ’da Noise, Bring in ’da Funk_ , and they retake their seats just as Neil Patrick Harris introduces Bernadette Peters to present the award for Best Actress in a Featured Role in a Musical. Rachel lets out a little hiss of ‘this is it!’, as if all of them have been waiting solely for her category. 

Bernadette Peters announces the nominees, and Rachel smiles widely, her arm wrapped around Finn’s upper arm, when the camera focus on her. “And now,” Bernadette Peters says, “the Tony Award goes to Mandy Gonzalez, _Turn of the Centuries_!”

As Kurt starts applauding, he can hear Finn talking to Rachel. “I'm sorry. I know you're disappointed. Rach? Rach. My arm. Rachel, ow, my shoulder.”

Kurt waits until Mandy is on the stage, then he leans forward and glares at Rachel. “Stop,” he hisses. “Stop _now_.” Rachel’s face hardens and then she seems to think better of it, releasing Finn’s arm and settling back in her seat with a smile almost disarming in its insincerity. Kurt turns to Finn. “Are you okay?”

Finn slowly rotates his shoulder in a small circle. “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. Don’t worry about it.”

“I’ll decide when to worry,” Kurt corrects him, raising an eyebrow, and the house lights dim for a montage of scenes from the nominated plays. Kurt picks up Finn’s right hand in both of his. “Don’t lie to me, darling. I can commandeer some painkillers or something.”

“A little sore,” Finn confesses. “Eliza needed swung from her dad’s arms like a monkey. I can’t tell her no.”

“Darling.” Kurt sighs, and Noah leans over. 

“Monkeying before this again?” Noah whispers. 

“Yes,” Kurt says. “I don’t know if they have ushers for painkillers.”

“Hey, hopefully we’re going backstage again in a few minutes,” Noah points out, grinning. “We’ll nab you something, okay?”

“You guys worry too much,” Finn says. “I’m fine. I’m just waiting for you to win more stuff.”

“We do not,” Kurt retorts. Noah just shrugs, and they listen to the brief summary of all the musicals that have ever won for Best Score before the presenter starts reading the nominees. 

“The Tony Award for Best Score goes to _Milk_. Music by Noah Hummel, Lyrics by Kurt Hummel.” 

“We’re kinda cleaning up here, blue eyes,” Noah says as they stand, his lips next to Kurt’s ear, and Kurt suppresses a giggle. 

This time when Finn whoops, he also holds both his hands in the air over his head, all five fingers up on one side, and his index finger up on the other. Finn is correct, in that it does make six for _Milk_ overall, and Kurt and Noah are laughing when they make it on stage. 

“Still want me to talk?” Kurt says into the microphone. 

“Nah, I thought we’d let Finn come up here for us,” Noah jokes, and everyone in the theatre laughs. 

“On a more serious note, we want to thank the real people whose lives we portrayed through song in _Milk_ ,” Kurt says. “Cleve Jones, Anne Kronenberg, Medora Payne, even Senator Dianne Feinstein all gave graciously of their time and memories. We wanted to tell Harvey’s story, and we wanted to get as much of the story as correct as possible. Their willingness to share their thoughts made that possible. We also want to thank those who are no longer with us, whose stories are told in the musical: Jim Rivaldo, Dick Pabich, Scott Smith, Jack Lira, George Moscone, and of course, Harvey Milk himself. On a personal level, we’d like to honor the memory of our mothers as well, Maggie Hummel and Rina Rubin Puckerman.” He pauses and then smiles more widely. “Once again, thank you.” 

They’re already in the wings when they hear Neil Patrick Harris. “What none of us knew before tonight is that the Hummels had hired their own cheering section! Finn, would you be willing to train some others before next year?”

The audience laughs at whatever Finn’s response is, and by the time Kurt and Noah return to their seats, the winner of Best Scenic Design is about to be announced. 

“And the Tony Award for Best Scenic Design goes to Beowulf Boritt for _Milk_.”

They all clap, but Finn doesn’t do anything beyond clapping, and Neil Patrick Harris looks almost disappointed. The next award is for the Best Revival of a Play, followed by the performance from _Milk_. After some discussion, they had all settled on ‘San Francisco’, the opening number, which features Aaron and Zachary and some of the chorus. _Milk_ loses Best Costume Design to _There and Back Again_ , which makes Noah shake his head and mutter “hobbits” under his breath. 

The Tony for Best Play is followed by two performances and the Tony for Best Revival of a Musical, which goes to _Xanadu_. The Special Tony for Lifetime Achievement is awarded to Patti Lupone and presented by Mandy Patinkin, giving a very moving speech about his friend Patti. There’s a lot of people in the audience dabbing their eyes, and Kurt can hear Rachel excitedly chirping. “Finn, remember when we met her, the first year we came to Nationals? Remember?” Finn merely nods, and Rachel turns back to the stage. 

Hugh Jackman is announced as the presenter of Best Actor in a Leading Role in a Musical, and this time, Kurt notices Noah is also holding his breath. “And the American Theatre Wing’s Tony Award goes to Aaron Tveit, for his portrayal of Harvey Milk in _Milk_.”

Their entire section cheers, and as Aaron strides down the aisle, he stops to shake hands with Noah, Kurt, and Finn. “Thank you,” Aaron says as he steps up to the microphone. “This is an amazing feeling.” Kurt knows Aaron hasn’t won before, and not been nominated as often as many people feel he should have been. “My first thanks, of course, to Kurt and Noah, who wrote a wonderful book with equally wonderful songs to tell this story.” He continues to thank the rest of the cast and crew, and some of his friends and family before he has to conclude his speech and leave the stage. 

Finn leans over and whispers, “Eight. I’m gonna run out of fingers before this is over.”

“There’s only two more left for us,” Kurt whispers back. 

“Then it’s good we’re not _There and Back Again_ or I’d be screwed,” Finn says. 

Kurt shakes his head. “That was _Lord of the Rings_.”

“It’s still hobbits,” Finn insists. “A nine-fingered hobbit couldn’t count all of your awards. Don’t be so judgey.”

Kurt stifles a laugh as the award for Best Actor in a Leading Role in a Play is awarded, followed by a musical performance and then the Tony for Best Lighting Design, which their designer, Kevin Adams, wins. He raises one eyebrow. “Do you have that last finger ready?”

“For you?” Finn asks. “Always.”

Noah snorts back a laugh, and Kurt shakes his head, not really noting who wins Best Actress in a Leading Role in a Play. He straightens when they announce the presenter for Best Actress in a Leading Role in a Musical, because while they don’t have anyone nominated, he hopes that Audra McDonald wins for her part in _How Stella Got Her Groove Back_. Three of the five actresses nominated are from the musical, but Kurt would like to see Audra win the most. 

She does, in fact, win, and Kurt claps enthusiastically and make himself listen to her speech closely, because the very next award is the final one, Best Musical. 

The executive producers and writers of the previous year’s Best Musical winner, _Lake House_ , go to the microphone and read through the nominees. “The 2022 nominees for Best Musical are _Fenway_ , _How Stella Got Her Groove Back_ , _Milk_ , _There and Back Again_ , and _Turn of the Century_. And the Tony Award goes to _Milk_.” 

Finn yells excitedly, and the next thing Kurt knows, Finn has a hand on each side of Kurt’s face and plants a kiss solidly on Kurt’s lips. After a moment, Finn releases him, and puts his fists in the air again, whooping delightedly. It takes Kurt and Noah a few moments to exit the row and wait on the others, and as they start to walk toward the stage, Neil Patrick Harris crosses to the microphone. 

“Why don’t you bring Bluebird up here with you, guys?” he suggests, and Kurt laughs as he and Noah turn and gesture for Finn to stand up. Rachel looks mortified as they all parade to the stage, Finn trailing behind them and singing ‘We Are the Champions’. Once they reach the stage, the microphone faintly picks up the song as well, and the back of the theatre laughs as they realize what Finn is singing. 

The only executive producer who really oversaw things in more than a ceremonial fashion is Nathan Berk, and since Kurt and Noah have been on stage already, Nathan gives their acceptance speech. The entire experience is all a bit of a blur, and then they’re herded off stage for numerous photos. Kurt can hear Neil Patrick Harris bidding everyone good night, and announcing that ratings went up throughout the show, which he is apparently crediting to the repartee between himself and ‘the big guy’. 

 

“I have never been so embarrassed in my life, Finn Hudson. You _ruined_ this night for me, you and the Tony voters!”

Finn ashes his cigarette out the window of the car and answers without looking over at Rachel, “I think everybody seemed like they were having fun.”

“Because they were winning! And not sitting next to you, either.”

“Kurt was sitting next to me,” Finn says. “He seemed like he was having a good time, too. Anyway, I don’t get to vote on who wins a Tony. I’m not on the Tony Winner Voting Panel or whatever. I’m just an ex-football playing PhD candidate.”

Rachel huffs exasperatedly. “That’s not the point, Finn. I was so embarrassed by your antics. And that Neil Patrick Harris, encouraging them!” 

“I got his contact information,” Finn says. “He’s really nice. Funny, too. He showed me pictures of his kids. They’re about Beth’s age. They could have a middle-schooler playdate with Beth some time!”

“Middle schoolers don’t have playdates, Finn. And I’m not sure it was wise of Shelby and Noah to have Beth there tonight. I hope she’s not going to be subjected to the after-party.”

“I don’t know,” Finn says with a shrug. “She’s part Puckerman. I bet she knows how to party.”

“Oh thank goodness, there’s the Plaza,” Rachel says, looking out the window, and her face freezes into her out in public smile. 

“Time to work the carpet, huh?” Finn asks. 

“Please behave yourself,” Rachel hisses. “I know you’re going to find the fucking Hummels.” 

“Probably so,” Finn agrees amicably. “I really am sorry you didn’t win, you know. I thought you did a really good job being Anne. I think real-Anne thought so, too.”

Rachel doesn’t respond, just grabbing his arm as they get out of the car, and as soon as she sees someone to talk to, she stops and waves him on. Finn definitely doesn’t argue about that, and while he does get snagged by a couple of photographers on the way into the party, he’s still in there long before Rachel. 

“Hey, beetle-headed barnacle,” Hannah says cheerfully from behind him. “Did your official date already ditch you?”

“Hey, future president of the ugly club!” Finn responds as he turns around. “Yeah, she saw some paps she had to talk to.”

“Their loss is your gain!” Hannah puts her hand on Finn’s elbow and starts steering him. “You’re going to find yourself in high demand. You’re either ‘Bluebird’ or ‘the Hummels’ brother’ here tonight.”

“Awards shows are more fun than I thought they’d be,” Finn muses. “We should do more of these. We’ll just pick some to go to, and you can be my date.”

“Let’s crash the Kennedy Center Honors,” Hannah suggests. “You can introduce me to President Clinton and her husband.”

“Sounds like a plan.” Hannah guides Finn through the crowd of people until Finn can see Kurt’s excited hair peeking over a woman’s shoulder. “I see Kurt’s hair,” Finn says.

“Then I’m sure Noah’s mop isn’t far away,” Hannah says, rolling her eyes a bit. “Shelby already met up with us and took Beth back to the hotel. Much to Beth’s chagrin.”

“Aww, too bad for Beth,” Finn says. “Do they have a bar in here anywhere? We should find the bar, now that I know where Puck and Kurt are.”

“Kurt’s got you a drink. I tried to get Noah to buy me one, but he said that he couldn’t buy alcohol for a minor in public.”

“See, I could totally buy alcohol for a minor in public, but if Kurt already has a drink for me, I guess I don’t need to go over to the bar.” Finn grins at Hannah. “Sorry, monkey-lips.”

“Me and a glass of wine wouldn’t hurt a thing.” Hannah shakes her head and steps away as they reach Kurt and Puck. “I’ll go hustle some other unsuspecting theatre cheerleader.”

“Try your best,” Finn calls after her. “Somebody’ll believe you’re legal!”

“Don’t encourage her,” Puck says wryly, then grins at Finn. “Don’t I get a kiss for winning, too?”

“You got rainchecked,” Finn points out. “Kurt didn’t get a raincheck.”

“Uh-huh.” Puck shakes his head, trying to look sad. “But hey, you’re sort of famous!”

“I was already sort of famous,” Finn says. He shrugs. “I’ll be famous for being your brother who likes award shows, though, if you think that’s an improvement.”

“I’m pretty sure a good eighty percent of the people here wouldn’t know that the Bears were in Chicago,” Kurt points out. “Just consider it expanding your reach.”

“I’m expandedly famous,” Finn says. 

“Oh, here’s your drink,” Kurt says, handing Finn one of the two glasses in his hands. “This’ll probably last an hour or two. We’re waiting to see if we get invited to the after-after party.”

“The answer is probably yes, but who knows?” Puck adds, shrugging. 

Finn drinks his scotch and soda, looking around the room. “Who lets you know if you’re invited?”

“No clue. One of the suits that funds things, I bet,” Puck says. 

“You think they do it all sneaky? Slip you a scrap of paper with, I dunno. Coordinates or whatever?”

“There’s a bus,” Kurt says. “If you’re on the bus before it leaves, then you’re in. I think.” He takes a sip of his cocktail and looks around the room. “Oh, you should mingle, too, darling. Everyone wants to talk to you.” He smirks. “Did you like how I slipped that in?” 

“Yeah, good job on that, bossofme,” Finn says. “I got mentioned in a Tony’s speech. That’s pretty awesome.”

“Oh, I think you’re going to be asked to attend every year,” Puck says, laughing. “Okay, come find us in thirty minutes or so, because I think we’re about to be snagged from all sides.”

“Bluebird,” a man says from Finn’s right. “I have to say, I was surprised to recognize you tonight.” The man shifts his drink to his left hand and offers his right to Finn. “Jeff Calhoun.”

“Nice to meet you, Jeff,” Finn says, taking the man’s hand. “Yeah, it’s my first awards show.”

“The enthusiasm was great. You know, your— brothers, was it? Took over the Nederlander after my last show closed. I worked on _Newsies_.”

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that,” Finn says. He figures he probably sounds like he’s sorry the show closed; really he’s just sorry for the guy having to work on _Newsies_ , if it was as bad as Puck insists it was.

“We had a good run,” Jeff says dismissively. “Someone said you’re married to Rachel Berry? I think she was with us for awhile. Recognize the name.”

“Yeah, I’m married to Rachel Berry,” Finn agrees. “She was in the chorus or understudied or something. Both, maybe?”

“Swing, probably,” Jeff answers, nodding. “So do any of your friends from the NFL follow theatre, too?”

“My buddy Victor’s been to some shows. He’s even done some investing,” Finn says. “He plays for the Giants.” 

“Love the Giants,” Jeff says, “though I’m still a Steelers fan in the end. Can’t beat the hometown team, right?”

“I hear you, man,” Finn says, nodding. “Doesn’t matter who I played for. I’m still a dyed in the wool Browns fan.”

“That’s right, Ohio!” Jeff shakes his hand again. “It was nice to talk to you, Bluebird.”

“You, too, Jeff,” Finn says. Jeff heads off to talk to someone else, and Finn goes to look for the bar to get another drink. He’s still drinking it when he feels a hand on his back. Before he even turns around, he says, “Hey Puck.”

Puck laughs. “Hey. So guess what we’re about to do?” Puck’s hand moves a little lower, pressing more firmly. 

“Find another bathroom for a longer raincheck?” Finn guesses.

“Better. We’re going to go get on a bus.”

 

The first thing Noah does when they step onto the chartered bus to ride to the afterparty is look around. It’s a small, select group, just like they thought, and the seats are relatively generously sized. The second thing Noah does is grin at the back row and lead Kurt and Finn towards it, sitting down in the middle and pulling them down on either side of him. 

“That’s a little better,” he says with a smirk.

“A bit, yes,” Kurt agrees. “Darling?”

“Excellent,” Finn says. 

“Could be better, though,” Noah says, and he pulls Finn towards him, kissing him hard and putting his other hand under Finn’s jacket, running it up and down his side. Finn makes a happy sound against Noah’s mouth and wraps an arm around Noah, holding him tightly. After a moment, Noah can feel Kurt’s lips on his neck, and he grins against Finn’s lips before deepening the kiss. 

“We’ve never done it on a bus before,” Kurt muses quietly, which makes Noah pull back and laugh. 

“I’m pretty sure even Tony Award winners don’t get a free pass on that kind of public nudity,” he says.

“I could be a wall,” Finn offers. “I have practice.”

“Can you be a wall and still participate?” Noah asks, working Finn’s jacket off. “Fucking after-after party,” he mutters. 

“Did you have a better idea of how to spend the next few hours, baby?” Kurt asks, sounding like he already knows the answer. 

“I did.” Noah looks at Finn. “Guess what they were?”

“Sex on a bus? Sex in an after-after party bathroom?” Finn lists off. “Sex on the beach? No, that’s just a drink, there’s no good beach around here for that.”

“Sex,” Noah agrees. “Maybe there’s a bed at the after-after party.” 

“Either way, we’re stopping at the after-after party now,” Kurt says, standing. “Darling, Noah and I have been abandoned by our earlier dates. Do you think you could escort us both?”

“Sure. I think I’m big enough to be an escort for two,” Finn says. 

“Big enough?” Noah says with a smirk, following the others off the bus and waiting for Kurt and Finn on the sidewalk. He slides under Finn’s left arm and once Kurt settles on Finn’s other side, they head inside to the much smaller after-after party. In fact, the only people from the _Milk_ cast and crew present, outside themselves, are Kevin, the lighting designer; Paul Tazewell, their costume designer; and Aaron. 

“You have about five seconds to head out if you don’t want to be completely open,” Kurt says to Finn. “Though that probably sailed on the bus.”

“Fuck it,” Finn says. “I’d rather be here with you than anywhere else. So we’re open? So what?”

“So I can kiss you,” Kurt says with a shrug, and then does just that, a much deeper kiss than the one Finn had initiated back at Radio City. 

“Makes sense to me,” Noah says while the two of them are still kissing, and he slides his hand up under the back of Finn’s shirt. By the time Kurt pulls away, he looks thoroughly disheveled, and Noah grins at the two of them. “We should raid their food now, though. All that kissing’s hard work, right?”

“Right,” Finn agrees. “Then we should find a bathroom or closet or something.”

Kurt looks around and purses his lips. “We actually are in a penthouse suite or something,” he points out. “There probably is a bed. Not that we should necessarily avail ourselves of it, but…”

“Where there’s beds, there’s multiple bathrooms at the very least.” Noah shrugs and heads towards the food, not moving his hand from where it’s resting against the small of Finn’s back, skin against skin. While they’re getting food and then moving to the bar, Neil Patrick Harris approaches them. 

“Finn, thanks again for playing along tonight. That was a lot of fun,” he says to Finn. 

“No problem!” Finn says. “It was fun. Way better than awards shows when I’ve seen them on TV.”

“C’mon, let’s have a drink,” Neil Patrick Harris says. “What do you like?”

“Scotch,” Kurt and Noah answer together. 

“It’s true,” Finn says, nodding. “That’s what I like.”

“Oh, I like scotch myself,” Neil Patrick Harris says, grinning. “Let’s the two of us have a scotch.”

“Yes, let’s,” Finn says. “You’ve met Puck and Kurt.”

“Yes, of course. Your brothers,” Neil Patrick Harris says, with only a slight hesitation, and Noah isn’t surprised by Kurt’s response. 

“We’re close.”

Neil Patrick Harris laughs. “ _Rent_. Yes.” He turns to the bar and gets two glasses of scotch, handing one of them to Finn. “If the ratings are as good as they say, I might have to get you to cohost with me one year.”

“I could probably make some time for that,” Finn says, nodding. 

“Yet another career for you, darling,” Kurt says. “Cohosting awards shows.”

“Finn’s working on his PhD in psychology,” Noah explains to Neil Patrick Harris. “So that’d be number three.”

“It’s always good to have options, Finn, don’t let them tell you any differently,” Neil Patrick Harris says. He and Finn finish their scotch before he walks off, leaving the three of them standing there. 

“I feel a bit like Caesar,” Kurt says. “We came, we saw, we conquered.”

Noah laughs. “We did, a bit.”

“Told you that you’d win pretty much everything,” Finn says. 

“Not just the actual awards,” Kurt says, a bit smugly. 

“Yeah, you inadvertently helped us quite a bit,” Noah acknowledges. “You and Neil Patrick Harris.” He grins as Kurt presses against Finn’s side, and he leans closer to Finn himself, his fingers wrapping around Kurt’s at the small of Finn’s back. 

“You know, I never really thought about wanting to host an awards show,” Finn muses. “But now it’s sort of all I want to do. I hope I get to do that sometime.”

“ _All_ you want to do?” Noah teases. “I’m sure we can think of a few things to do before you get that call.”

Finn starts to laugh, pulling Noah and Kurt closer. “Let’s go find a quiet corner and make a scene, then.”


	5. The Peas: Harvey

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some babies happen. Some babies take a little more planning.

Like many ideas, Hannah isn’t able to pinpoint the exact moment it occurs to her. Probably on the subway, thinking about the next year of school, or maybe lying in bed one night. Once she has the idea, she researches it online. Like most internet searches, one thing leads to another, until she knows way more about every single aspect of the entire thing than she had ever planned. On the other hand, she feels reasonably confident about bringing it up with Noah and Kurt.

She just has to find a good time to do it.

There’s their Tuesdays, for starters; the Tonys and everything surrounding the Tonys; their birthdays; Pride. Hannah doesn’t want to bring it up when anyone else is there, even Finn, though she’s sure they’ll talk to Finn about it. She wants to talk to them before they go off to Pensacola Beach in July, though. 

Finally, two days after Noah’s birthday, after Pride is over, and June nearly is, Hannah cooks dinner, having insisted that they be there for ‘an early meal’ because she has something to tell them. It’s not something she has to tell them, it’s something she has to ask them, but she feels unexpectedly guarded and unsure about it, all of it, and she doesn’t know how they’ll react.

“So what’s going on, Hannah?” Noah asks, once they’re eating. “You have something to tell us?”

“Not exactly,” Hannah admits. “More like something to ask you. Or offer you.” She can tell immediately that she’s managed to confuse them further, but at least they aren’t trying to guess.

Kurt and Noah exchange one of those glances that apparently communicates volumes. Hannah freely concedes that being together for eleven years probably would result in similar abilities in anyone, but it’s still confounding at times. “Okay.” Kurt’s apparently the appointed spokesman this time around. “What is it?”

Hannah pokes at her food for a few moments before looking up. “I’m not just blurting this out. I’ve been doing some research for a couple of months now. I’ve even made a few phone calls, without giving any names. So I want you to know this is a serious offer.”

Noah nods slowly, almost suspiciously, and Kurt just repeats himself. “Okay.”

“So.” Hannah takes a deep breath. "I'm offering to be a surrogate for you. Traditional surrogacy. It's not quite the same as some of the crazy technology I’ve heard talked about now, but it'd be very very close to being genetically a combination of the two of you."

"Wow," she hears Kurt almost whisper, and Hannah looks down at her plate, determinedly not meeting their eyes. She can't figure out why she's become so certain that they'll laugh, tell her there's no way they would want _her_ to be a surrogate for them, but that's what her mind has insisted for the last few days.

"Hannah, I know you said… but are you sure?" Noah asks.

Hannah nods and finally looks up. "I have a few things that I'd rather do a certain way. For me, for the baby, for the two of you."

"Like what?" Kurt asks.

“I want to do it here.” She gestures around the apartment. “With a midwife, like Rachel did, but here.” She grins. “Like Carole did with Audrey, except on purpose. In the apartment. There won’t be any issue about the two of you being there, for starters.”

“Okay.” This time it’s Noah, sounding just as stunned as Kurt.

“Timing-wise, my program wraps up at the end of April next year, and I was planning to find a new place in August or September after that, anyway. So that’d make it easier to pump, if you wanted me to—I think I should, at least for awhile—and that way it won’t be too crowded here, and I’ll still be on the same timeframe I was thinking of.”

Noah and Kurt look at each other, then at her, then back at each other, and Hannah resists the urge to laugh. Of course she’s sprung it on them a bit out of nowhere, but she didn’t expect them to look quite so astounded.

“I’ve put together some research in a collection, links and other things,” Hannah continues. “I’ll give both of you access to it now, and you can look over and we’ll discuss it later.” She pulls out her phone and does just that, then starts eating again. As soon as she finishes, she stands up and smiles at them. “And now I’ll leave you for the evening.”

 

Kurt listens to the door close with a sense of almost detachment. Yes, they had always known there was still a _chance_ , but their acceptance of the possibility of no other children, when they finished grad school, had been hard enough, at least for Kurt, without seriously entertaining the idea that it could still be possible later. No matter what he might want, the only way he could accept it was to treat it as if there was no chance. To accept it and move on, with no little flickering ‘what if’ in the back of his head.

And there it is, not only a ‘what if’ but an absolute offer, right in front of them, suddenly and willingly, unsolicited. The flickering that Kurt had done his best not to have explodes in his brain, bright and promising, and he’d be lying if he tries to insist that Hannah’s offer means nothing. It means everything, everything he has thought for most of his life that he couldn’t have.

A baby. Not that Beth isn’t in some way his as much as she’s Noah’s. Not that Hannah isn’t their kid, though not their daughter. Not that Eliza isn’t theirs, even. But Hannah was a sister first, and neither Beth nor Eliza lives with them.

“Do you think that she realizes what she’s doing, really?” Noah says quietly, and Kurt squeezes his hand, pulling them up and out of the kitchen, down the hall to the bedroom. The dishes can wait.

“I don’t know,” Kurt admits as they close the door, then strip and settle on the bed, Noah’s tablet in his hand. He pulls up whatever Hannah has collected, then rests it on their thighs. “She seems to understand.”

“I don’t want to get my hopes up,” Noah whispers, resting his head on Kurt’s shoulder, and Kurt watches Noah’s eyes track over the text on the screen. They’ve never even spoken of it, really, not after that day in May four years earlier. Not after _Small Town_ opened, not after Eliza was born, not after there was interest in _Milk_ , not after the Tonys, just a few weeks earlier.

“No.” Kurt nods slowly. “Me either. But, god, baby. If she’s really sure about this…” Kurt lets his voice trail off.

“Yeah.” Noah grins a little, then closes his eyes, the smile fading slightly. “I didn’t let myself think about it. Not that I thought we should have made a different decision; I didn’t and I don’t. Just— it was easier that way.”

“Exactly.” Kurt nudges Noah’s head up, kissing him slowly. “Well, let’s see what she has for us.”

 

When they barely make it to the Nederlander in time for Kurt to get in costume before he has to be on stage, Noah reflects on two things: one, it’s good to be the boss, or they’d be in serious trouble, and two, maybe Hannah should have made her offer over breakfast, not just a few hours before they had to be at work. Sometimes Noah grabs an empty seat in the house or even plays with the pit for a song or two, but not this night. He wanders around backstage, thinking about Hannah, everything she put together, and he doesn’t really notice much about the night’s performance.

They hadn’t even made it a quarter of the way through her accumulated research. They had read her ‘summary’ and scanned the topics, but as Noah finally finds a quiet corner during the second act, he mentally acknowledges it’ll take them another day or two just to read everything and digest it.

Which is what they do. Read a little, talk about it or sometimes just shrug and agree to revisit that part later—Noah’s pretty sure Hannah doesn’t intend for them to read in detail about some of it until they’ve actually made a decision—and then go on to the next section, as they can fit it in. They don’t mention it to Hannah, and she doesn’t bring it up, and by the time Saturday’s two shows are over, they’ve finally made it through all of her information, at least skimming it.

The next day is just the matinee, and when they can, they have dinner afterwards with Finn. Sometimes it’s a restaurant but more often than not it’s takeout, unless Hannah volunteers ahead of time. The standing assumption is that Finn will meet them at their apartment, unless someone arranges otherwise, so Kurt and Noah grab Indian food on the way home, and aren’t surprised that Finn’s already there when they walk in.

“Hey, you guys,” Finn calls out as they walk through the door. 

“Hey,” Noah calls back. “Indian tonight.”

“Uh oh,” Finn says. “What’s up?”

“What?” Kurt says, sitting the bag on the coffee table in front of the futon. “We didn’t say anything yet!”

“Yeah, but you got Indian food,” Finn points out. 

Noah exchanges a mystified look with Kurt, and they both shrug before sitting down. “Extra spicy, extra meat for you,” Noah finally says. “And nothing’s up. Yet. Maybe?”

“That was confusing for me, and I know what you’re talking about,” Kurt points out dryly. 

“Well, something _could_ be up, or you’d have gotten Thai,” Finn says. “So what’s up? Or may be up later?”

“Hannah… offered us something,” Noah finally says. “Not out of the blue either, at least not for her. She’s spent some time researching it and putting together information for us to read.”

“I have a feeling she was waiting until after Pride,” Kurt says. “We have been pretty busy for the past month or two.”

“Yeah, maybe so,” Noah acknowledges. Finn nods along like their conversation makes perfect sense, even though he clearly has no idea what they’re talking about.

“So?” Finn asks. “What did she offer?”

“Well.” Noah sits back, ignoring the curry in front of him. “She offered to be a surrogate.”

“A surrogate what?” Finn asks, then his expression changes, his eyebrows squishing together and then relaxing and rising. “Oh! Like… a baby surrogate?”

“Yes, exactly. She’s done quite a bit of research, like we said,” Kurt informs Finn. “How she wants to do things and so forth.”

“Wow. Just, wow, you guys!” 

“You’re managing more words that we did, I think,” Noah says. “I think we’re still a little bit in shock.”

“Just a bit,” Kurt agrees. 

“But you’re going to say yes, right?” Finn asks. “I mean, you _are_ going to say yes.”

“We’re— this isn’t something we really thought we’d get to have,” Noah tries to explain. “It’s taking us a little to wrap our heads around it.” 

“There were choices we made,” Kurt says quietly. “And with those choices, we had to acknowledge it was possibility that we wouldn’t have, oh, how did we put it? Additional babies. So it was easier not to think about it.”

“But you’re going to say yes,” Finn repeats. “Guys. This is awesome! Everything is pretty much as perfect as it’s ever gonna get with the show, right? And all the Tonys?”

“It is,” Noah agrees. “It’s really unexpected, though, and we’re having to sort of, I don’t know. Open some mental doors we’d shut.”

Finn nods slowly. “Yeah. Yeah, I guess I can see that. But you want mo— kids, right? That’s something that you want?”

“It is,” Kurt says slowly, and as he catches Noah’s eye, Noah nods. It was also the one thing they had been sure they couldn’t give Finn. 

“You don’t think we’d screw up too badly?” Noah says, forcing himself to use a light tone. 

Finn’s face softens, and he smiles. “Guys. Come on. You’ll do a great job, just like you did with Hannah. And Beth. And Eliza.”

Kurt laughs. “So we’re out of our depths if it’s a boy, it seems.” 

“Remember, we don’t get any warning. That was one of Hannah’s things,” Noah explains to Finn. “No ultrasound unless medically indicated. She wants to do it here.” He waves his hand, indicating the apartment. 

“Oh, wow,” Finn says. “That’s so cool. I mean, sucks you won’t get any pictures of the baby, but that’s really awesome that she wants to have the baby here!”

“Hannah thinks it’ll make things a little easier,” Kurt says. “And then she gave us all these things about it being safer. I admit I skimmed those. She’s even looked into midwives.”

“And surrogate-friendly birth classes, which apparently everyone gets to attend,” Noah adds. 

“You know, Mom had Audrey at home, and Aud turned out pretty great,” Finn says. “And Hannah’s really smart. If she researched all that stuff, it’s probably all really good.”

“I think it’d be calmer if it was planned to be at home,” Kurt says, almost laughing, and Noah nods his agreement. 

“So if you decide you’re going to do it, when does it happen?” Finn asks. 

“Hannah’d talked about moving out in September, next year,” Noah says, “and she still wants to do that, but she’ll finish up at the end of April, and basically, she wants to time it with that.” 

“So she can pump easier,” Kurt explains. “Give herself a few weeks to physically recover before job hunting, but not so long that it looks odd that she graduated and then didn’t do anything.”

Finn nods. “Yeah, that makes sense. And we still have all of Eliza’s stuff, so you don’t even have to buy a swing or anything like that! Hey, and you can use the Bucky Bag!”

“Didn’t you have Eliza in it just a few weeks ago?” Noah asks. “On your back?”

“Yeah, but by the time your baby’s born, she’ll be too big for it, probably,” Finn says. He shrugs and gives them a small, crooked smile. “It’s not like there’s gonna be a _next_ one for me to use it for.”

Kurt raises an eyebrow and pokes Finn in the side. “You mean you’re not going to carry my kid around?” he asks jokingly, exchanging a glance with Noah that Finn doesn’t see.

“Well, I guess you guys could get a new one, and I’ll hang on to the Bucky Bag for when I steal your baby,” Finn says. “Like how you always stole Eliza.”

“We still steal her. We just pick her up early from preschool now,” Noah points out with a grin. “The teachers like us better than they like Rachel, so she doesn’t know that Eliza misses out on some of that important two year old enrichment.”

“They like _you_ ,” Kurt insists. “With your Hebrew phrases and stories about your Nana.”

“Everybody likes you guys better than they like Rachel,” Finn says. “Even Zachary, and I’m pretty sure he’s still fucking her.”

“He may be, but she’s not the only one he’s fucking, I don’t think,” Noah says. “And I’m pretty sure it’s just the stories about Nana.”

“So… you really think we should do this?” Kurt asks Finn. 

Finn reaches out to take Kurt and Noah’s hands in his. “Yeah. I think you should do this. Another baby in the family would be awesome, and I know you’ll do a great job.” He laughs briefly and adds, “Even if it turns out to be a boy.”

“Didn’t Burt say Audrey was the only Hummel girl for generations?” Noah points out. 

Kurt shakes his head and confesses, “I just thought I’d never live with a pregnant woman again.”

“Remember,” Finn says. “It’s all about stocking the right foods.”

Noah grins. “I guess I foresee even more trips to Zabar’s in my future, then.”

Finn’s smile gets even wider as he pulls Noah and Kurt closer. “This is gonna be so great!”

 

Once the appropriate window has passed, Kurt does his best not to obsess over the process and is-she-or-isn’t-she question. There’s still performances nearly every day, time with Eliza, and everything that previously occupied their minds. It’s there in the back of his head, though, and he can tell it is for Noah, too. There’s nothing written on the calendar on the refrigerator, exactly, just a red circle around the day that, in theory, they should have an answer, and Kurt and Noah are already in the kitchen drinking their coffee when Hannah walks in that morning.

“No go,” Hannah announces with a shrug. “We’ll have to try again in a couple of weeks. I’m going to look up a few things and see if we can’t increase our odds a little.”

“Okay,” Noah says after a few beats, and Hannah pours herself a cup of coffee before going back towards her bedroom.

“Well, we knew it wouldn’t necessarily happen right away,” Kurt says thoughtfully.

“Yeah. Wonder what increasing our odds means, though,” Noah responds, frowning a little.

“I don’t know.” Kurt rinses his mug and puts it in the dishwasher. “Either way, we’re currently expected for assistance in selecting autumn toddler couture.”

Noah laughs. “Yeah, that school does sort of seem to demand couture. We should get Finn a couture yarmulke so he’ll blend in with the other parents.”

“You joke, but I’m surprised Marc Jacobs hasn’t created a line,” Kurt says, grinning.

“You should send a request.”

It’s a week later before Hannah informs them what, exactly ‘increasing their odds’ entails. The first time around, she’d gone to Ana’s three times, and that was as much as they had known about the details once Kurt’s part was done.

“I think the travelling isn’t the best for it,” Hannah says matter-of-factly. “So Ana’ll just be here, and we’ll take care of everything in-house, so to speak.”

“Ah,” Kurt says, and he and Noah both nod, though the full implications of that don’t hit until three days later, while they’re eating lunch.

“So can you come back between performances?” Hannah asks. “It’s probably a little early, but it can’t hurt. Then tomorrow night late, Tuesday morning a little before lunch, and one last try on Wednesday night late. Ana’ll be here, and that way the amount of jostling is minimal. Just across the hall.”

“For all that I know I have exhibitionist tendencies,” Kurt says quietly to Noah after they’ve nodded and agreed with Hannah, “I think this might be straining my overall comfort levels.”

Noah snorts. “I think it’s partially that she’s able to be so detached and clinical about it.”

“Yes, probably.” Kurt pulls out his phone and looks at their calendar for the day. “I suppose we should probably take a cab back, though. MTA on the weekend isn’t always the most reliable.”

“Yeah, if we want to have enough time.” Noah shakes his head. “Just weird, blue eyes, it’s just weird.”

It absolutely is weird. They haven’t said a word to anyone but Finn, but they don’t try to make any excuse as they leave after the matinee and head back to the Upper West Side. That isn’t the strange part, though; the strange part is being in the bedroom, the door closed, and knowing that Hannah and Ana are sitting in Hannah’s bedroom, not only knowing exactly what they’re doing, but _waiting_ on them.

“Why does this seem suddenly more awkward?” Noah asks, and Kurt giggles, shaking his head.

“Infinitely more awkward.”

Kurt hopes once they get past the hurdle of the first attempt, it will be better, but the next evening proves that no, it’s not appreciably less awkward. Finn’s presence on Tuesday morning does, in fact, make Kurt less aware, but Wednesday evening, post-performance, Finn’s at his apartment with Eliza and Kurt fervently hopes that this cycle works, because he’s not sure he’s ready for another attempt.

The following two weeks, Kurt thinks about it more often than the first cycle. The day is circled on the calendar again, and Kurt tells Finn he should come over that morning. Kurt _almost_ feels sorry for Hannah, considering the three of them are in the kitchen, sitting at the table and drinking coffee while they wait for her to appear.

He doesn’t feel sorry for her because she walks into the kitchen like nothing whatsoever is happening, heading towards the refrigerator with a wave. “Morning.”

“Hannah,” Noah says.

“What? I was just getting some orange juice,” she protests. “Did I need to pay a fee for it or something?”

“Really, Hannah?” Noah says, raising an eyebrow.

“Fine. Party pooper. You’re off the hook, Kurt. May thirtieth, give or take.”

Finn thrusts both fists into the air with a loud, “Woohoo! You knocked her up!”

Noah laughs, grinning widely, and turns to Kurt. “Bet you never thought anyone’d say that to you.”

“No,” Kurt agrees, shaking his head. “So what, what’s next?” he asks Hannah. 

“Now I wait for morning sickness to descend. Probably you guys should meet the midwife, but I don’t think you really need to come to appointments.” Hannah shrugs. “Pregnancy’s pretty boring for the first half, especially if you aren’t the one puking, as far as I can tell.” 

“Do you need anything?” Finn asks eagerly. “I can go get you anything you want, if you need ice cream or beef tacos or some kind of special fish. I could go right now!”

“Why beef tacos?” Kurt asks. “Is there something special in beef tacos?”

“Maybe the kind with avocado?” Noah guesses. “Avocados are good.”

“I was just thinking about Mom and all her Mexican food,” Finn explains. 

“And now Audrey hates it,” Kurt giggles. “She got sick and tired of it before she was ever born.”

“I’m fine,” Hannah says over them. “Ooh, but Finn, I think when those books say to borrow men’s clothing for maternity wear, that’s you.”

Finn starts to laugh, shaking his head. “Yeah, I guess mine’ll be the only ones that’ll fit once you get huge. You’re gonna get so huge, skunk-monkey!”

“Speaking of monkeys, were the three of you going for the speak no evil, hear no evil, see no evil tableau?” Hannah asks, gesturing to them. “You can be hear no evil, gigantor.”

“Huh? What?” Finn says. “Couldn’t hear that.”

Hannah rolls her eyes. “I’m going to go get ready for class.” She picks up the orange juice glass in front of her and walks out of the kitchen with a wave over her shoulder. 

“Thank god,” Kurt says quietly, giggling. “I wasn’t up for another round. Literally.”

Noah snorts. “I think we would have had to take our chances with ‘jostling’.”

“I bet it was the time that I helped out with that worked,” Finn says, almost smugly. “If anybody asks, you can just say it was a group effort, ok, Hannah?” he calls out after Hannah.

Kurt shakes his head. “But it _was_.”

 

Finding a time that Noah and Kurt could manage to get together with Allison, Zachary, and Tori all, had meant planning three or four weeks in advance for Sunday evening. The good part about that was they knew Finn could come, too. 

“They’re going to know something’s up,” Noah points out as he, Kurt, and Finn wait for the others to show up at the restaurant. 

“Because of the restaurant? Hardly.” Kurt smirks at Noah. “They’ll assume you picked it out, and then be confused when they recognize all the dishes on the menu.”

“I’m not that bad. Am I?” Noah asks Finn. 

“Uh. Yeah, you’re kinda that bad,” Finn says. “Sorry.”

“Betrayer,” Noah says with a grin. 

“I’m here!” Allison announces from halfway across the restaurant. “I’m both hurt and flattered by this invitation, Noah.”

“Let me guess, you’re hurt because you didn’t get to arrange it?” Noah says, laughing. “It’s good to have you back in the city.”

“It’s good to _be_ back,” Allison agrees. “Kurt! Finn! Did you let Noah pick this restaurant?”

“You’ll have to look at the menu to figure that out,” Finn says. 

“Told you,” Kurt says smugly. 

“Yeah, yeah,” Noah says, shaking his head as V2 gets there.

“Hi!” V2 says happily. “I was afraid I was going to be late. That St. James was blabbering on to the entire cast. I couldn’t tell you what the point was.”

“Oh, the stories we could tell you about Jesse St. James,” Kurt says, shaking his head. “How’s the show otherwise?”

“Oh, it’s great,” V2 says, sitting down beside Allison. “I don’t know if I’ll stay too many months more, but I suppose I might as well hang on for close to two years.”

“The real concern at the moment is we left the same place Zachary did,” Noah says. “And yet, he’s still not here.”

Another few minutes pass before Noah smells the very familiar scent of Zachary post-joint, and he waves over his shoulder without looking behind him. “Hey, Zachary.”

“Hello there, sir, always a pleasure,” Zachary says, offering his hand around the room as if he hadn’t just seen half of them barely an hour ago. “Allison, more beautiful than ever. Miss Victoria, tell me you’ll let me take you to dinner next week.”

“A sandwich at the Sunrise Deli doesn’t count,” V2 points out. 

“Anywhere you want to go,” Zachary says. “Okay, almost anywhere you want to go. I’m not going back to that Chilean restaurant.”

“What’s wrong with the Chilean restaurant?” Finn asks.

“What _isn’t_ wrong with it, sir?” Zachary replies. “The answer is nothing. Nothing is _not_ wrong with it.”

“You did realize that Chile is not where chili comes from before you went to the Chilean restaurant?” Kurt asks Zachary, and Allison laughs. 

“I was expecting a little more sea bass,” Zachary confesses. 

“Yeah, not so much of that,” Noah agrees with a nod. 

“If it’s fish you need, I’m sure there’s some here!” Allison says cheerfully. “I feel so young. Let’s just get Ben up on someone’s tablet or something.”

“It’s a little early for dinner, pacific time,” Kurt says wryly. 

“Oh, he doesn’t have to actually eat. But don’t you?” Allison asks. 

“A little bit,” Noah admits. “But let’s eat, first.” Everyone orders and after the server leaves, the girls look expectantly at Noah and Kurt. “So this isn’t exactly a secret, we’re just keeping it relatively quiet,” Noah begins. 

“You make it sound like we’re taking up drug running or something,” Kurt says, laughing. 

“It’s not drug-running, I promise,” Noah says. “No, Hannah approached us at the end of June and offered to be a surrogate for us, so we’re waiting on the end of May now.”

“Oh, wow, congratulations!” Allison says, grinning. “That’s so great!”

“It is,” V2 agrees. “I’m so happy for you.”

“That is excellent news,” Zachary says slowly. “Most excellent news. Do you know the flavor yet?”

“Hannah doesn’t want to do ultrasounds, so, no,” Kurt explains. “We’ll find out at the end.”

“Ooh, so old-fashioned,” V2 laughs.

“No pink or blue cake reveal, sadly,” Finn says. “That was good cake.”

“We could just have a cake without a specific color,” Noah says. 

Allison’s face lights up, and she nudges V2. “We’ll plan their baby shower.”

 

“It’s only been open since the summer,” Kurt explains to Burt as they walk a few blocks over to the microbrewery/restaurant. “The food is typical bar food, but their porter is amazing.”

“I’ll have to give that a try, then,” Burt says. “It’s been awhile since I’ve had anything but light beer.”

“It’s a holiday, or almost, with Thanksgiving tomorrow,” Kurt points out. “How’s business been? You’ve not said lately.”

“Little bit of a slump over the spring, but we made up for it over the summer,” Burt says. 

“Our summer was good, too, or so I’m told,” Kurt says with a grin as the two of them sit at the bar and order. “Ticket sales, I mean.” 

“That’s great,” Burt says. “Glad to hear the show’s going strong. We’re all real proud of you boys.”

Kurt nods, then thanks the bartender. “So, um. How do you feel about being a grandfather again?”

“Again?” Burt asks, looking surprised. “Is Rachel pregnant?”

“What?” Kurt says. “No. I mean, I certainly don’t think so.” He knows he should continue explaining, but he’s a little stunned by Burt’s reaction. 

“No?” Burt’s surprised look transitions into confusion. “I mean, I know _you_ aren’t pregnant, and I’m seriously doubting Noah could manage that feat any better than you could.”

Kurt shakes his head. “No, that’s true. However, there is surrogacy.”

“So, wait. It is you and Noah?” Burt asks. “I mean, you and Noah and a surrogate?” 

“Yes. We weren’t expecting the chance, but the timing is good, and— yes.”

“Seriously?” Burt asks. “You’re not messing with me?”

“Why would I joke about it?” Kurt responds. “Yes, seriously.”

“Congratulations! Son, this is great news!” Burt bursts out, grabbing Kurt and hugging him. “So, how does this even work?” he asks, as he releases Kurt. “Do we get to meet the surrogate? How’d you find her? When’s she due?”

Kurt laughs. “We didn’t exactly go looking. It’s Hannah, Dad.”

“Hannah!” Burt exclaims. “Well, son… I don’t know what to say!”

“She came to us and offered,” Kurt explains. “And she’s due at the end of May.”

“Wow, son. That is just… _wow_!” Burt takes a sip of his beer. “Another baby in the family, how about that? I can’t wait to tell Carole!”

“We’re keeping it fairly quiet for now,” Kurt says. “Finn knows, of course, and we told Allison, Zachary, and Tori, but no one affiliated with the show knows except for Zachary.”

Burt nods. “Should we tell Audrey yet, or do you want me to wait?”

“I don’t see why we can’t go ahead and tell her,” Kurt says after a moment. “Mainly we just want to spare Hannah from being pestered by some people, but Audrey won’t do that.”

“After I talk to Carole, we’ll talk to Audrey, unless you’d rather do it.”

“Either way’s fine, really.” Kurt drinks some of his beer and then sets it back down slowly. “You’ll remind Carole that Hannah is, by her own choice, _just_ the surrogate? There are a few links I could send.”

Burt nods again. “Yeah, that might be helpful. I feel a little bit out of my element here. But Hannah’s okay with all of this? It’s not gonna be weird?”

“She has everything planned out as she wants it. Of course there’s an element of not knowing until we reach that point, but she put a lot of thought and research into it.”

“Okay, then,” Burt agrees. “This is just great, Kurt. I’m so excited for you!”

 

Finn finishes tucking Eliza into bed, gives her a kiss, flips on her nightlight, and then walks back out to the living room, where Rachel is perched on the edge of the narrow white sofa with a strange look on her face. 

“Eliza’s down,” Finn says. “She’s probably already asleep.”

“That’s good,” Rachel says absently, then focuses on Finn. “Finn, have you noticed anything different about Hannah?”

“Hmm?” Finn says, trying to sound non-committal. “Different how?”

“Well, I think she looks pregnant, actually,” Rachel says. “It’s not surprising, I suppose. Absent father, the tragedy with Rina, and I’m sure the Hummels have done their best, but well, really! They’re still very young themselves.”

“Whoa, hey,” Finn says. “Lay off of Hannah.”

“Oh, I’m sure you have plenty of ways to defend Hannah and the fucking Hummels,” Rachel says dismissively. “But I notice you aren’t denying that Hannah looks pregnant.”

They’d been trying to get through the new year without having to have this conversation with Rachel, but since that ship has sailed, Finn just shrugs. “Because she is pregnant.”

“I knew it!” Rachel says triumphantly. “I suppose teenage pregnancy is just a family feature.”

“Hey!” Finn snaps. “You just stop that right now. Don’t say shit like that. Hannah _wanted_ to carry the baby for them!”

“For them?” Rachel echoes, an odd look on her face. 

“Yeah, Rachel. _For them_ ,” Finn says coldly. “She’s their surrogate. Hannah’s carrying a baby for Puck and Kurt, just like Shelby did for your dads.”

Rachel’s face hardens, and her nostrils flare. “Well. I can’t believe Kurt would enlist Hannah in such a scheme. Was Noah finally planning on leaving?”

“Do you even hear yourself when you talk?” Finn asks. “Do you even listen to me when I talk? Hannah offered. Nobody asked her. It was her idea. She did all the research about it before she ever even talked to them.” He shakes his head in disgust. “And Puck’s not planning on going anywhere. Why would he?”

Rachel rolls her eyes. “Well. Congratulations to them, I suppose,” she spits out, sounding anything but happy. 

“I bet Eliza’s gonna be excited to have a new little baby cousin,” Finn says. “She loves babies.”

“That’s right, are you going to be able to take her from preschool to dance? Her voice lesson is rescheduled this week, and on Friday, she and I are going to observe that musical theatre class on the Upper East Side. Now that she’s three, it’s time to expand her extracurriculars.”

Finn sighs. “Rach, we talked about this already. She doesn’t _like_ the voice lessons. She doesn’t want to do the theatre class. She’s _three_! She wants to do gymnastics and guitar lessons.”

“Plenty of musicals cast children at age seven or eight,” Rachel argues. “Without the appropriate lessons, Eliza won’t have a chance. I suppose gymnastics might increase her flexibility and assist with her dance skills, but guitar? I’m sure that’s Noah’s doing.”

“Are you going to start shoving her into those baby pageants, too?” Finn asks. “Do you even care what she wants to do? She’s not _you_ , Rachel. She’s her own person!”

“She’s only three, how can she properly understand about preparing for her future? That’s my job, to make sure no opportunities are limited for her.”

“No, that’s not your job,” Finn counters. “Your job is to let her grow up to be whoever she wants to be, not who you want her to be. She hates those voice lessons. She doesn’t like to sing, and let’s face it, Rach. She’s not going to be a singer.”

“You can’t know that. She’s still very young, and as long as we keep educating her properly, as her voice changes, she’ll be prepared.” Rachel huffs again and crosses her arms. “I can’t believe you want to limit her opportunities.”

“I want her to be a _kid_ , not your fucking show dog,” Finn says. “So you know what? Pick _one_. One class you want her in, and she can pick the other one, and that’s _it_.”

Rachel starts to point a finger at him, then stalks across the room. “Fine. But when she regrets it later in life, I’m not taking any of the blame!”

“Fine by me,” Finn mutters to himself. “That is absolutely fucking fine by me.”

 

“Nana’ll want to come out after a few days, after the baby’s born” Noah says to Kurt, and Kurt tilts his head. He can’t think of a reason why Nana would specifically want to wait, until Noah continues. “For the bris or the simchat bat.”

“Oh, right, of course.” Kurt nods. Noah’s not exactly observant, but Kurt understands that certain rituals still hold some importance, to him and to Nana. 

“I hope you’re doing a brit shalom!” Hannah yells from the kitchen.

“A what?” Noah asks as Hannah walks in. 

“Brit shalom. Also known as a bloodless bris. There’s not a reason to _actually_ circumcise, Noah.”

Noah frowns, and Hannah smirks as Kurt and Noah cross their legs. “Why not?” 

“Noah. Kurt. It’s essentially cutting off a part of the baby!” Hannah shakes her head. “I know that sounds dramatic, but think about it! Remember what you’re always saying, Noah? We learn more, and the law changes. We learn more, practices change. Why not this?”

“I suppose I never thought about it,” Kurt admits carefully.

“It’s painful, and it’s a perfectly functional part of the baby.”

“I don’t know.” Noah looks surprised. “I never thought about it either. What did you say it was called?”

“Brit shalom. You can find some suggested texts online, and I’m sure someone at CBST would do it.” Hannah sighs. “Come on, Noah. You’re not _that_ observant.”

“Yeah, okay, I know it’s not strictly medically necessary,” Noah says, looking over at Kurt. “What do you think?”

Kurt shrugs. “You two know the Judaic aspect better than I could even begin to. I knew that there wasn’t really a medical reason, but it’s still more common in the United States.”

“Exactly!” Hannah says triumphantly. “No medical reason for routine infant circumcision.”

“Okay, okay. I’ll find the stuff about it, Hannah,” Noah says wryly. “Any other things you’d like to influence our decisions about?”

Hannah grins unrepentantly. “You’ll thank me later.”

 

“Hannah’s gonna kill us,” Noah says cheerfully, saving the edited file. “It’s over an hour long.”

“We have to take advantage of her shamelessly in some way,” Kurt says with a shrug. “Making her sit with headphones on her belly for a couple of hours a day seems like a relatively benign way, all things considered.”

“We just have to do the intro things, which means we have to decide about names,” Noah points out. Two dads and no mom is one dilemma, but they’re functionally dealing with three dads. “I mean, Finn’s already Dad.”

“Right. And Beth’s called you Daddy, but also Dad now that she’s older, so…” Kurt trails off and shrugs. “I don’t really like ‘Father’ at all.”

“No.” Noah makes a face. “I agree. That’s out. And let’s not go with a different language, either.” 

“No, that’s probably not the direction to go. There’s, well. Daddy, Papa, Pa, Pop?” Kurt lists off. 

“Pa sounds like we’re traveling in covered wagons or letting the oxen out. And Pop sounds like we’re going to turn on the brand-new TV and watch Elvis on Milton Berle,” Noah says wryly. 

Kurt laughs. “And in a few more years, we’ll upgrade to color?” He shakes his head. “No, you’re right. So that leaves Papa and Daddy.” 

Noah nods slowly, thinking. “You’re probably more of a Daddy, in the end, than I am,” he says finally. 

“I was going to say I think I could see you being called Papa long before I would be,” Kurt agrees. “So, then. Dad, Daddy, and Papa?”

“Yeah, I think so,” Noah says, nodding again. “Okay, we can finish this up, then.” 

They record a short bit more, which Noah edits into the existing file. It’s eclectic and if Hannah actually listened to it instead of using headphones on her belly, she’d probably be confused. It doesn’t really matter what their voices are saying, after all; Kurt still has the audio file from Regionals senior year, so ‘Marchin’ On’ went on there, and a recorded interview with Finn after the Badgers’ second Rose Bowl win. Kurt had insisted on being slightly more conventional and recording himself reading a book; the rest of the file is various conversations and songs with all three of them or some combination thereof. 

“She’s getting a great set of headphones out of it,” Noah jokes. “Even if we are essentially asking her to sit in one place for two hours every day.”

“It’ll give her a good excuse to put her feet up and ask us to bring her random food,” Kurt says. 

Noah laughs. “She does that anyway.”

“See? We’re just helping her multitask.”

 

Lillian is acting odd, at least in Kurt’s view, and he shakes his head as he walks past her backstage. When he first stepped down to just four performances a week, he wasn’t sure if he’d appreciate it, but being backstage but not onstage for Thursday night and the two weekend matinees has been nice. It’s been even nicer not to hurry out of costume so they can leave on Sunday evenings and meet Finn at home or, less often, out at a restaurant. Usually Noah chooses if it’s a restaurant, though sometimes Finn does, and Kurt looks down at his phone again. 

_Ordering appetizers if you aren’t here in 15_

Kurt shakes his head. _We’re leaving now_ he sends, then heads to find Noah. 

“We’re in danger of losing input on appetizers,” Kurt informs him, and Noah laughs, taking his hand as they head through the alley to the lobby and then to hail a cab. 

“We haven’t been in, what, a year or two?” Noah asks they head towards Chelsea Brewing Company. 

“I think so, yeah,” Kurt agrees. When they arrive, Finn is standing outside looking impatient, and when he sees them, he puts his hand behind his head and gesticulates wildly. 

“Are we playing charades?” Noah says, looking as confused as Kurt feels. 

“No idea,” Kurt admits, climbing out of the cab and waiting for Noah to pay the cabbie. “Hello, darling.”

“About time you got here!” Finn says. “Hey.”

“We do have to at least appear to work,” Noah retorts. “My guess is moose. Or elk. Elk, I think.”

“Huh?” Finn asks. “I didn’t order any moose or elk appetizers, dude. That’s just gross.”

“No, I thought we were playing charades,” Noah explains. “I thought the hand was your antlers, maybe.”

“Oh. Nah, that was a bug. There was just a bug,” Finn says. 

“Must be early this year.” Noah shrugs. “Good idea, by the way. We haven’t been here in awhile.” They walk inside, though Kurt only has his hand in Noah’s, since the microbrewery and restaurant isn’t a place they are open. Finn leads them through the main area of the restaurant and then into a room in the back. There’s a clump of people standing there grinning at them, including Lillian, which explains her acting odd before, and when Allison sees them, she puts up her hand and they all chorus ‘Surprise’ at once. 

“Come on!” Allison says to them. “Welcome to your baby shower. And before you say ‘we didn’t know we were having a baby shower’, that’s why we said ‘surprise’.”

“I was still gonna order an appetizer if you hadn’t gotten here when you did, though,” Finn says.

“Asshole,” Noah says cheerfully. “Did you make sure they got green cake?”

“Guess you’ll have to cut it to find out, asshole,” Finn answers. 

“No cake yet,” Tori insists. “Buffet, gifts, _then_ cake. There’s placecards so everyone knows where to sit, though.” She winks at Noah and Kurt, then looks over at Rachel, who’s talking to Carole, and Kurt stifles a laugh. 

“I promise I didn’t knit most of the gift,” Nana says, walking up to them. 

“You could have said you were coming to New York,” Noah protests, giving her a hug. “How long are you here?”

“I couldn’t have, either,” Nana insists. “You would have wondered why now and why not six weeks from now!”

“Maybe,” Noah says, shrugging. Kurt and Noah go through their own version of the buffet line, being greeted by everyone. It’s not a large crowd, of course, because not that many people know, but in addition to Nana, Burt, Carole, and Audrey, Beth and Shelby are there from Ohio, and all of the New York City-dwelling McKinley alums. Kurt finishes a brief conversation with Syd and Nina, who are discussing some resolution in front of the city council, and laughs at the next thing he hears. 

“I fly all the way from the West Coast, and you can’t even update our latest Word Duel match?” Ben asks. 

“You fly all the way from the West Coast, and that’s the first thing you ask about?” Kurt counters, turning around to give Ben a brief hug. 

“Well, Allison put me to work the moment the plane touched down, so I was looking for something distracting!” 

“I called it the first time we met her, remember?” Noah says, grinning. “Good to see you.” 

“It’s time to eat!” Allison’s voice carries over the rest of them. “Everyone fill up at the buffet and find your seat. Not anyone else’s, and no more than one pair of buttocks to a chair, please. That means you, Zachary!”

“I’d never!” Zachary says, clutching his hand to his chest like he’s wounded by the very suggestion that he would sit in the wrong seat. 

“You definitely would,” Tori says sweetly, grinning at him. “You forget, we’ve known you a very long time.”

As everyone sits down at their assigned seat—the only switching is Shelby and Beth, so Beth can sit next to Audrey—Carole looks around the room. “I meant to ask earlier, but shouldn’t Hannah be here?”

“She thought it would be better if she stayed with Eliza this evening,” Finn explains. “She said she didn’t want people to get confused about whose baby this is and who the shower is for. It’s cool, Mom, seriously.”

“Oh, okay,” Carole says, though she still looks a little dubious. Most of the conversation dies down as they start to eat, and as Kurt looks around, a stray thought occurs to him and he starts to giggle. 

“What?” Noah asks, and that just makes Kurt laugh harder. 

Finn’s eyebrows knit together and he frowns slightly. “You ok, Kurt?”

Kurt nods and manages to speak after another few moments. “Most people have more guests at their wedding and fewer at a baby shower,” he explains. “We have more people here!”

“That’s… actually true,” Noah concedes, looking at the guests and laughing for a moment. “We got more popular.”

“Not too much more popular, though.” Kurt giggles again. “Just a bit.”

“Time for gifts!” Allison announces a few moments later. “Let’s give them their loot.”

“Open mine first,” Nana insists, and a large box is presented to them a few moments later. When Noah lifts the lid, he starts laughing. 

“What’s your definition of most, Nana?” he asks. “’Cause this looks like a lot of it is knitted.”

“Just half. That’s not most. Hold that blanket up! And one of the hats is bigger, for the fall.” 

“I’m guessing the pumpkin one is for now?” Noah asks, which makes Nana shake her head and everyone else laugh. They end up holding both hats, the rainbow blanket, and the purple hippo before finding some thinner, store-bought blankets underneath the knitted things. Since they hadn’t planned on a baby shower, they hadn’t really registered, though Kurt had passed on a few idea when Burt had asked. Since just three hadn’t been enough, Kurt suspects that was Allison and Tori’s way of getting a gift suggestion list out of them. 

They slowly go through the presents, each person or group of people bringing them a gift, and Kurt estimates they’re about halfway through when Quinn approaches. 

“I’m so happy for both of you,” Quinn says, handing a neatly-wrapped box to Noah. 

“Thanks, Quinn,” Noah says, Kurt nodding, and they unwrap the box to find a good size diaper bag with lots of pockets and a tag boasting its ability to withstand rain and snow. 

“Thank you,” Kurt says, shooting another smile at Quinn, and then at Lillian, who had appointed herself the recorder of gifts and givers as soon as it started. For her part, they soon discover that Lillian and some of the other theatre people who know about the baby went in together to get them a very nice stroller. Rachel gives them two outfits, one ‘boy’ version and one ‘girl’ version, that Kurt immediately decides the baby will not wear. He even wonders if she sent Hiram and Leroy to the Lima Mall to find them, because he cannot imagine where in New York she found such Midwestern monstrosities. There’s another pack of onesies in the box, which by Kurt’s estimate puts them at about fifty of the things. 

Eventually, there’s only a matching set of gifts, and Finn dumps a box into each of their laps. “’Cause you both need your own,” he explains. 

“It’d better not be another burp cloth,” Kurt whispers, just loud enough for Noah and Finn to hear, and Noah snorts as he unwraps his box. 

Noah gets his open before Kurt does, and he holds up a black baby carrier that’s covered in different sized pockets, grinning. “Thanks,” he says to Finn, holding eye contact with Finn for a moment. 

“Hey, those things are awesome, what can I say?” Finn says. 

Kurt finishes opening his box, and the carrier in it has just one pocket, and instead of black, it’s a tasteful pattern of blues and greys. “Thank you,” he says quietly to Finn, smiling at him. 

“You’re welcome,” Finn says.

“And now it’s time for cake,” Allison announces in the same cheerful voice, presenting them with a thick sheetcake that simply says ‘Congratulations Kurt and Noah’ on it. When they cut into it, it is in fact green, and Kurt giggles as Noah laughs. 

“Should’ve messed with everyone and made it a pink and blue swirl,” Noah jokes as everyone gets a slice of cake. 

“Nah, everybody would think you were having twins,” Finn says. 

“Oh, no,” Kurt says, eyes wide as he shakes his head. “No twins.” 

“Technically we don’t _know_ that,” Noah says slowly. 

“If there’s two, I’d just have to keep one,” Finn says. He sounds like he’s joking, but Kurt knows Finn would love that. 

“They’d have to be very small, I think,” Kurt says, recovering from the thought. “So probably not.” The three of them watch everyone eating the cake, Nana and Nina’s mother discussing something enthusiastically and Syd and Tina talking shop while Mike looks completely lost. After the cake is consumed and people congratulate them again, everyone starts to leave, until it’s just Finn, Noah, and Kurt, along with Allison and Tori. 

“You three can transport all of this?” Allison asks after consolidating most of the gifts into four large bags. 

Finn waves his hand dismissively. “I can transport all of this myself.”

“Still doing the heavy lifting,” Kurt teases. “If you get the stroller box, though, I’m sure we can each get one thing. Just so we don’t scare off all the cabbies.”

 

After the Sunday matinee, Noah and Kurt stop to get Thai food and meet Finn at home, eating dinner before spending the rest of the time before Finn leaves kissing and talking quietly. When Finn has to leave, Noah and Kurt settle in on the futon, catching up on a couple of television shows. Kurt’s quietly been making the arrangements, so as soon as the baby comes, his understudy will step into the role for an unspecified length of time. Maybe six weeks, maybe three months, maybe longer, but Noah’s glad they have the ability to be flexible about it, even if they haven’t told that many people yet. He figures that’s the strangest thing, really; when both of them are men, no one’s pregnant, and no one looks at them and guesses that there’s a baby on the way, or that they might be parentally related to the baby on the way.

Hannah wanders through a little after nine, heading towards the kitchen, and she stops to the side of the futon. “Ana’s on her way,” she announces. “And Valerie.”

Noah looks up slowly. “Hannah?”

“I thought you’d want to know,” she says nonchalantly. “I mean, it’s not like you’re going anywhere or you had to rush to get here, so I didn’t feel the need to—” She breaks off abruptly, closing her eyes and swaying just slightly. Noah exchanges a look with Kurt, who makes a face, and the two of them watch Hannah until her eyes open. “Make a big screaming deal,” she finishes. “So we’ll pretend that I did, if you need a story to tell, and meanwhile, you two can call, oh, whoever you need to call.” She winks and walks back towards her room, like she didn’t just give them important news.

“Valerie’s coming.” Kurt looks a little shell-shocked. “That means Valerie thinks it’s worth coming out here.”

“I’ll text Finn,” Noah says. “You’d better call Rafael.”

“Right. Right!” Kurt says, standing up and heading into the kitchen. “I’ll start on that food checklist, too.”

The four of them had no doubt made an interesting picture at birthing classes. Ana there for Hannah, Noah and Kurt there so they’d be prepared for the immediately after the birth part, as well as figuring out what they could do during the birth. The midwife, Valerie, has two assistants, one of whom will spend more time photographing than anything, and another who will stay with the baby after the birth, while Valerie takes care of Hannah. Reviewing all of it makes Noah feel a little calmer, but it also makes it real, real in a way that Noah wasn’t sure he’d ever experience again.

This time, though, it’s not ‘his kid’, it’s their baby, and things are so far different from thirteen years earlier that Noah’s both relieved and a little amused that he’d even try to make the comparison.

He sends a quick text to Finn, knowing that Finn has to make sure someone can stay with Eliza if Rachel isn’t home, and he gets back a message a few minutes later, that he’ll be there as quickly as he can. Noah studies the birth pool skeptically, wondering if it’s time to set it up or not, and Kurt walks back into the room.

“We have all the food and drinks on the list Hannah gave us, plus everything on the list from Valerie. And candy for Ana,” Kurt adds. “Snacks for us and I have no idea if we should be trying to get some rest now or what.”

“I was trying to decide if we should set up the pool and fill it up,” Noah admits. “I know the water getting too cold would be bad, but it’s got that fancy thermal cover, and it’s going to take a long time to fill it up.”

“Now we know why the non-pregnant parent or parents is supposed to start boiling water,” Kurt says wryly. “I’ll go fill up the stock pot and the bottom of the double boiler. Oh! And check the temperature. Remember Valerie said we might want to turn the radiator back on depending on the forecast.”

“Right. Weather.” Noah nods, and he’s in the middle of setting up the pool when Hannah emerges again, heading for the door. She’s changed into what Noah thinks is a bikini, with one of Finn’s old threadbare Wisconsin T-shirts thrown over it. By the time she gets to the door, there’s a knock, and she opens it for Ana to walk inside. The two of them disappear back down the hall slowly, and about ten minutes later, there’s another knock. This time, the birth pool is put together with a hose slowly trickling water into it, so Noah goes to let Valerie and her assistants in.

“Hi, Noah,” Valerie says warmly. “Hannah in her bedroom?”

“Yeah, she and Ana,” Noah nods. “You remember the way?”

“I usually sketch out the floorplans after the home visit,” Valerie confides. “So yes, I looked over that on the subway!”

Noah laughs. “Makes sense. All the food and stuff’s set up in the kitchen.”

“And the birth pool?” one of the assistants asks. “Lucy’ll want to know about the temperature and everything.”

Lucy must be the baby-assistant, then, and Noah nods. “Set up, starting to fill. I checked the forecast and we have the radiator going in case it all happens pretty quickly.”

“Good, good,” Lucy says. “Becca, you need anything else?”

Becca. Photographer-assistant. Becca shakes her head and the two of them start unpacking rolling suitcases with all manner of things, leaving Kurt and Noah to watch, feeling a little wide-eyed.

“Maybe we should change clothes,” Kurt murmurs after a few minutes. “Everyone else is wearing workout clothes, more or less, and here we are in jeans. If they get wet…”

“Yeah, good point,” Noah agrees. “We should put on running shorts, maybe. Then we’ll know if we’re too cold, the baby would be.”

“If I am, maybe. If you are, definitely.” Kurt laughs. “Ooh, we could at least get blankets out. It’s too bad we don’t have a dryer here in the apartment.”

“We could run the dishwasher and hang them over it,” Noah suggests, grinning. “But that only works if we time it extremely well.”

Kurt laughs again, and the two of them do go to change into running shorts and older T-shirts before pulling out the blankets they’d set aside for after the birth. Becca and Lucy are still unpacking, though it looks like they’re almost done, and Noah and Kurt sit on the futon, in more or less the same position they were in before Hannah walked in before. When Noah looks at the time, he’s a little surprised to realize that an hour and a half has passed, though the way the pool is filling up makes more sense if that’s the case. They can hear talking and the occasional sound that might be moaning, and then Lucy comes to check the pool. She lifts the cover, tests the temperature, and nods.

“Can you two add two more pots of hot water? Not quite boiling. I think Hannah’d like to spend some time in here, for at least a little bit.”

“Sure,” Noah says, and they stand up and go into the kitchen as Hannah comes down the hallway with Ana. She nearly trips on Ennis on the short walk, but Ana threatens Ennis with a bath and he heads towards the baby’s room, tail up. Becca comes into the kitchen and eats some fruit, then Lucy comes in and makes some coffee, though that confuses Noah, since he remembers the class admonishing birth partners not to drink coffee. Maybe the rules are different for midwives, or maybe only Valerie’s close enough to Hannah that she needs to avoid coffee.

“What do you think? Do you think we can chance the coffee?” Kurt says quietly. “We’re not exactly going to be breathing on Hannah.”

“We’ll imprint the baby to expect us to smell like coffee, maybe,” Noah says, then grins. “That wouldn’t be completely inaccurate, either.”

Kurt laughs. “No, that’s true. And we are going to be up for hours yet, it seems.”

“Don’t count on it,” Valerie says quietly behind them. “She’s fine, she’s enjoying the water and Ana’s enough right now. But she’s going fast, especially for a first-timer. Probably still after midnight, since it’s already eleven! But quicker than you’d think.”

“I’m going to text Finn again,” Noah decides after Valerie eats some of the snack food and goes back into the living room. Rachel knows Finn wants to be there, knows that Finn won’t leave Eliza until she’s home, and Noah pessimistically thinks it’ll be the middle of the night before Finn is able to come.

Hannah gets out of the pool after half an hour or forty-five minutes, which at least gives Noah and Kurt something to do, taking out some of the cooler water and putting in more hot water. When Hannah climbs back in around 12:30, Noah doesn’t really need Valerie or the others to tell them that she’s in the middle of transition. It seems like Hannah’s not getting a break, having one contraction after another, and there’s really, _really_ not a role for Noah or Kurt to play. Not until things change, Hannah declares that she’s pushing, and Valerie turns to look at Noah and Kurt.

“Did one of you want to catch?”

“Catch?” Kurt echoes.

“The baby. You could catch the baby,” Valerie explains. Noah shakes his head, because as much as he loves his sister and appreciates what she’s doing for them, and as much as he wants to hold the baby, he’s pretty sure he doesn’t want to catch the baby. Kurt nods, though, his eyes a little wide, and he walks towards Valerie, taking off his T-shirt. Noah moves closer, standing behind Kurt, and takes off his T-shirt, too, since the birthing class and the couple of books they read all talked about the importance of touch and skin-to-skin contact.

Noah doesn’t understand everything Valerie says to Becca and Lucy; he does understand that Becca has her camera out and that Valerie’s coaching both Hannah and Kurt, and Ana looks like she’s torn between exhaustion and giddiness. Noah checks his phone again; it’s a little after one in the morning, and the latest message from Finn is that Rachel is supposedly on her way to the apartment at last, so Finn can leave Eliza asleep. They’ll get him to bring Eliza over during the day the next day, but there was no reason to wake her up, not really.

There’s still something a little unexpected about a baby’s head emerging, in Noah’s view, though he can admit he’s probably a little biased due to his first experience with the sight of it. Still, he shifts to alternating watching the baby’s progress and Kurt’s face, and he really hopes Becca gets a picture of the look on Kurt’s face when the baby is actually in his hands at last.

“Oh god,” Kurt whispers, staring down. “Oh, god, Noah, look. Ohh, it’s a boy!”

Noah can feel himself grinning, and he steps forward so that they’re almost holding the baby with their chests, not their arms. “I see. Hi there, little guy. You’re definitely a boy.” They hadn’t found out, but the moment Noah looks down and sees him, he can’t imagine the baby that they’d been waiting for being anything other than a boy. Their _son_ , and that’s a little bit of a trip.

Kurt laughs. “He is. Hi, Harvey.” Harvey squeaks, his eyes barely open, and Noah registers Lucy guiding them over to the futon and handing them some blankets. They don’t really wrap them around Harvey, though; instead, they make a tent of sorts, blankets draped over their shoulders and enclosing all three of them.

“He really is a Harvey,” Noah says, running a finger through hair that looks awfully long for a newborn. “He’s going to need a haircut already.”

“Mmm, it’ll curl up shorter,” Kurt says. He looks up and grins at Noah. “Guess we know where he gets his hair.”

“Sorry, Harv,” Noah whispers.

“Five minutes old and already shortening his name.”

“He likes it. See?” Harvey actually looks unimpressed by the entire situation, but he must be warm enough and happy enough, because he’s not crying, and Lucy looks pleased at the results of whatever she’s observing.

“We have a baby,” Kurt says suddenly. “Noah. We have a _baby_.”

Noah grins. “Yeah, and it looks like he’s got your eyes, too.”

“Just… I think I never really expected it,” Kurt confesses. “No matter what anyone said over the years, it seemed like something for someone else. Not me.”

“Yeah.” Noah watches Kurt’s finger trace Harvey’s nose and then across his cheek. “I know, blue eyes. But he’s here now. Harvey Jude Hummel.”

Kurt smiles at Harvey, then looks up and smiles at Noah. “I think it suits him. Is it okay that I’m glad we don’t have to call anyone else tonight? Finn’ll be here soon?”

“He said another hour or so, but that was when she started pushing, so I have no idea,” Noah admits, reluctant to move to check the time on his phone.

“Should be soon, then.” Kurt nods. “Just us. We’ll tell everyone else in the morning.”

After a little longer, Lucy asks if she can weigh and measure Harvey and all of the stuff she needs to do, so Kurt shifts Harvey entirely into Noah’s arms for the brief walk into the bedroom. Harvey gets mad about being set down, though; his face scrunches up and he starts crying before Lucy is even halfway done with the admittedly brief exam. Noah scoops him up as soon as Lucy nods her okay, and throws a blanket over him while Kurt finds a diaper and clothes to put on him.

“Keep a hat on him for at least a few days,” Lucy says, watching Kurt, and Kurt nods.

Harvey’s still fussing, though he seems happier now that he’s being held again, and Noah sways in place a little, watching Harvey’s face squinch and his limbs flail a little. “Hi,” Noah whispers quietly. “It’s okay, Harv. I’ve got you. We’re going to get you dressed and then maybe a snack. You’ll be warm and full and— well, hi!” Harvey stops fussing and opens his eyes wide, wider than he has so far, and Noah grins. “Yeah, you’ve got those Hummel eyes, Harvey. You recognize my voice?”

“Of course he does,” Kurt says, and Harvey’s entire head turns towards the sound. “Yeah, you know us,” Kurt tells Harvey, smiling, and Noah just registers Lucy slipping out of the room. “Daddy got you out some clothes, if you’ll let Papa put you down.”

“He doesn’t seem to be a big fan of the not-being-held thing,” Noah says with a laugh. “We’ll have to work fast.”

“No, he doesn’t,” Kurt agrees a moment later, when they’re halfway through diapering and dressing and Harvey is wailing. Finally they finish and Kurt picks him up again as Noah gets up and meets Lucy at the door.

“Colostrum,” Lucy says, gesturing at the small bottle in her hand. “His stomach’s tiny, remember, but you can see if he wants some.”

Noah nods and hands the bottle to Kurt, who offers it to Harvey four times before Harvey decides that yes, actually, he will try the whole ‘snack’ idea. Kurt sits down on the edge of the bed as Harvey eats, looking a little overwhelmed.

“Noah,” Kurt says softly. “Look at him. He’s our _son_.”

“Yeah.” Noah sits beside them, watching Harvey’s tiny fingers curl and uncurl. “I thought I knew, you know? Thought it couldn’t be so intense, but it is. It really is.” Noah touches his finger to Harvey’s sock-covered foot. “He’s what, forty-five minutes old? If that? And to love him this much, and it feels like—”

“Like he’s been here forever already,” Kurt finishes, nodding. “I know. God, baby, this is incredible.”

“We get to keep him,” Noah whispers almost involuntarily, and Kurt turns to look at him. “It’s just… our girls,” he tries to explain, and Kurt nods.

“I know,” Kurt replies softly.

Noah had never been sure what to say when someone asks if they have kids. The proper answer, up until that day, had been ‘no’, most likely, but Beth is theirs, albeit untraditionally, and Eliza certainly feels like theirs. Noah knows Kurt feels more like Hannah is their kid than Noah does, though Noah also knows he put plenty of time into the raising of her. Now at least the answer is simple: yes, they have kids. The number of kids still isn’t an easy question to answer, but Harvey is theirs, and he’s staying with them, and until that moment, Noah hadn’t really thought about everything that means to him.

Harvey decides he’s done eating, turning away from the bottle repeatedly, and Noah laughs softly at the look on Harvey’s face. “What’s that mean, Harv?”

“Maybe he’s very confused by the events of the last several hours,” Kurt points out. “I imagine it’s a little disconcerting.”

“Cold for the first time, hungry for the first time, seeing another face for the first time… yeah, I guess that could be confusing,” Noah concedes. “It’s okay. You’ll get it all figured out. And we’ll try to keep you from getting cold or hungry, at least.”

“If you’re like me, we’ll just be cold together, Harvey,” Kurt says with a quiet laugh. “But right now we have blankets and a nice warm room, don’t we?”

Harvey watches their faces as they take turns talking to him, telling him nothing of much importance, at least at first.

“So you’ve met us,” Kurt says as Noah rocks Harvey slowly back and forth. “Papa and Daddy. Really soon, though, like in just a few minutes, we have someone else that you need to meet. People will tell you he’s your Uncle Finn, but he’s not, not really, okay? He’s just Dad.”

“You get three fathers. It’ll make Fathers’ Day a little expensive,” Noah admits, “but hey, big savings on Mother’s Day. Well, except you should really get Aunt Hannah something nice anyway.”  
Kurt laughs. “Don’t scare him.”

“But it’s true,” Noah continues, grinning briefly at Kurt. “You get me, and Daddy, and Dad. All three of us. It doesn't matter what anyone else might say, because we know how things are. Got it, little guy?" Harvey stares at Noah, then back at Kurt, and Noah smiles. “You’ll figure it out.”

“I hope Finn gets here before Harvey gets sleepy. What is it, a couple of hours of being alert after birth, and then a heavy sleep?” Kurt says quietly.

“Yeah. He should be here soon, though.” Noah sits down slowly, and then puts Harvey on a blanket in the middle of the bed. The two of them lie on either side of Harvey, watching him watch them.

“When he gets here, we should tell him not to speak right away. Have him talk in a regular voice, and see what Harvey does,” Kurt says, smiling at Harvey and holding one tiny hand.

“See if all of that worked, yeah,” Noah agrees, and then he slides off the bed. “Speaking of, I think I hear Finn, so I’ll go find him.”

Noah’s strangely reluctant to close the bedroom door behind him and continue down the hall into the rest of the apartment. He can hear people talking, moving around and packing things, and rationally, Noah knows that this is just Valerie and Lucy and Becca’s job. They come to the birth, they stay for a little while, and then they leave, back to their own families. Ana will stay a little longer, and then Hannah will decide if she’s going to stay with Ana for a few days, once she’s met Harvey. But the bustle of it all is almost jarring, compared to the quiet in the bedroom, and Noah has to shake his head and make himself walk down towards the kitchen. He stops and watches Finn close the door carefully behind him, and then Noah smiles to himself.

“Hey, darling,” Noah says softly.

“Hey,” Finn says. “How’s Hannah hanging in there?”

“She’s fine,” Noah says, grabbing Finn’s hand. “C’mon. You gotta meet somebody.”

A bunch of different expressions play across Finn’s face, finally settling on a look of thrilled surprise. “No way!” Finn says. “Already?”

Noah grins and nods. “Already. It went really fast, obviously. But hey. When we get in there, go stand beside the bed and then start talking in a normal tone of voice. We want to check something.”

Finn looks puzzled, but nods in agreement, following Noah into the bedroom. Finn clearly wants to pick Harvey up and start talking to him in baby-ese, but he does as Noah instructed, and instead stands next to the bed.

“Hey, Kurt,” Finn says, in a close-to normal tone. “That’s a baby you’ve got there.”

Kurt grins and nods, and then Harvey’s head turns, his arms and legs wiggling. “Yes!” Noah says. “It worked. Okay, you can pick _him_ up now.”

“Him!” Finn repeats, leaning over to scoop Harvey up. “Hi there, Harvey! You’re so huge! Eliza was tiny, but you’re a giant baby, aren’t you?”

“Not quite eight pounds,” Kurt tells Finn. “And didn’t you see? He recognized your voice!”

“I did see! I guess all that time around Hannah, he was bound to hear it, huh?” Finn says. He moves Harvey’s hat slightly off his head, then repositions it. “Guys, I think he’s got the Puckerman hair.”

“Yeah, he’s got the curls,” Noah agrees, sitting down on the bed and nodding for Finn to sit with them. “And we stacked the deck a little. Remember how we made Hannah listen to that really long audio file every day?”

Finn laughs, repositioning Harvey in his arms. “Yeah, I remember.”

“Yeah, there was plenty of your voice on there,” Noah says. “We even snuck a recording of you singing to Eliza.”

“Plus I had some older audio files,” Kurt adds.

“So he really does know my voice, then,” Finn says quietly. “A boy. That’s so cool, you guys. We’ve got one of each.”

“Yep,” Noah says, nodding his agreement with both statements. 

“You can stay tonight?” Kurt asks Finn. “And go get Eliza in the morning?”

“Yeah, that’s not a problem at all,” Finn assures them. “I can stay.”

“Good. I think Hannah wanted to meet him in the morning, then she might go over to Ana’s for a few days,” Kurt says. “And— yeah, now he’s starting to get sleepy. We’ll go over to the theatre on Wednesday before the show.”

“Surprising most of them,” Noah says with a laugh. “Yeah, he is.”

They sit silently, watching Harvey slowly fall asleep, exchanging smiles and glances with each other as his eyes flutter and close. After he’s been asleep for a bit, Finn eases him onto the bed, lying in the middle of the triangle that they’ve formed. Harvey stretches, and Finn pats him softly while Noah adjusts his hat and Kurt puts a blanket over him.


	6. The Peas: Charlie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And some babies enter the world through bribery, chicanery, and drama.

Noah waits for the door to close behind Finn, and he listens to the sound of Finn’s footsteps leaving before he sighs. “He did it again, blue eyes,” Noah points out, walking to the window and watching Finn walk down the sidewalk, casting shadows as he passes under the streetlights. 

“You and I know that it’s not quite the same, no matter how we feel,” Kurt agrees, nodding and glancing at the digital picture frame as it slides from a picture of Beth to one of Eliza at her third birthday party. 

“He just wants another baby.” Noah rubs his hands over his face. “And dammit, we thought we’d done all we could.”

“And then it turns out we could have given him _a_ baby, anyway, if not multiple babies.” Kurt sighs and gestures for Noah to join him on the futon. “She probably never read the contract. There aren’t that many women on the cast, and none of them have gotten pregnant.”

“Right.” Noah sits down heavily. “I’m pretty sure Rachel could sue us if we brought it up, under the guise of us being her bosses or something.” 

“And Syd would probably tell us how inappropriate it was, anyway,” Kurt agrees. “So… we should tell Finn?” He makes a face. “That feels odd.”

“Feels like we’re telling him to go have sex with her,” Noah says, shuddering. “That’s really odd, K.”

“I know, baby.” Kurt wraps his arm around Noah’s shoulders, and Noah leans against him. “But it’s not like— well, I certainly know that it doesn’t mean it’s per se enjoyable.”

Noah snorts. “You’re still recovering, aren’t you? But it’s not like Rachel’d let him come in a cup.”

“Well, no,” Kurt admits. “Still. He wants a baby. And until he’s finished with the PhD, he won’t leave her.”

“Asshole’s got how much money, and he still feels like he has to be able to get a job to take care of his kid,” Noah says, shaking his head and smiling almost in spite of himself. “Yeah, I see what you’re saying, I guess. Kind of like using her.”

“A bit?” Kurt says uncertainly. “I mean, if Finn’s clear with her about what it is and isn’t, then it’s up to her to agree or not. Surely even she realizes that theirs is not a ‘til death do us part’ sort of relationship.”

Noah laughs. “I think everyone realizes that. Except probably Burt, Carole, Hiram, and Leroy.” 

“Don’t go there tonight, it’s been such a pleasant day,” Kurt pleads, then laughs himself. “Hiram and Carole probably have a great time imagining Finn and Rachel’s anniversary parties, and I think Dad probably doesn’t really think about it either way.”

“Yeah, fair enough,” Noah concedes, though now he has an image of Hiram and Carole meeting for coffee and planning a tenth anniversary bash or something, and he shudders once. “Okay. We’ll let Finn know.”

Kurt nods, his arm tightening around Noah. “It’s all we can do.”

 

Kurt waits until after breakfast the next morning to send a quick message to Finn, suggesting lunch at Potbelly as a break from his schoolwork but before Kurt and Noah go to the theatre. It’s far enough from the Theatre District that none of them should be recognized, something that’s been happening with increasing frequency since the Tonys, whenever any of the three of them are having a meal near the Nederlander. It’s still a limited group of people who smile knowingly if it’s all three of them, but they’re all being noticed. 

The two of them arrive before Finn, so they go ahead and get in line, ordering his usual sandwich before they sit next to the window. Kurt catches sight of Finn a few moments later and smiles to himself when he notices Finn’s wearing the red scarf Kurt bought for him a month earlier. Kurt raises his hand to get Finn’s attention, and Noah gestures towards Finn’s food, so he won’t get in line. 

“Hey,” Finn says as he approaches the table. “Thanks. I’m starving!”

“You should take a snack with you,” Noah fusses. 

“I know,” Finn says. “But I forgot.”

“Well, eat now, darling,” Kurt says. “I thought we wouldn’t have anyone wanting to have a conversation with us down here.”

“Especially not me,” Noah grins. “I’m still the least recognized.”

“Hey, don’t knock it,” Finn says. “I’d like a little more anonymity sometimes.”

“You have a choice.” Noah shrugs. “Anonymity, or tweets from Neil Patrick Harris.”

“It’s true,” Kurt agrees. 

“Damn,” Finn says, picking up his sandwich and taking a bite. 

“The concessions of life today,” Kurt says dryly, and the three of them eat without much conversation, until Kurt only has a few bites left, and he sets his sandwich down. “So, darling, we have something we need to tell you about.”

“Yeah?” Finn looks from Kurt to Noah and back to Kurt. “What’s up?”

“Maybe nothing.” Noah shrugs. “But you should know, anyway. We’re thinking Rachel never really looked at her contract. Beginning to wonder if anyone read the fine print, actually.” 

Kurt laughs. “The ones with agents. No one else.”

“Yeah, probably,” Noah concedes, then looks back at Finn. “She ever mention if she did?”

Finn shakes his head. “She didn’t say, but I know I’ve heard her say that contracts are pretty standard from show to show. Not to me, obviously. To some of her theatre friends.”

“Ours aren’t.” Kurt takes a sip of his drink and sets it back down. “Partially thanks to Syd, actually, with some input from Tina.”

“And common sense,” Noah interjects.

Finn looks slightly confused, and then concerned. “Oh shit. Are you guys firing Rachel?”

“What? No,” Kurt says, shaking his head. “That, we still have to have grounds for. Other than personal dislike. No, we changed the wording for all of the women in the show.”

“The standard contract’s kind of shitty to women, really,” Noah says. “We can’t make everyone change, but we could change ours.”

“None of the women affiliated with _Milk_ are required to stop performing at a certain point if they find themselves pregnant. They’re also not out of a job after they give birth.”

“Oh. Ok.” Finn nods. “So, who’s pregnant?”

“No one,” Kurt answers. “No doubt partially due to the fact that none of them read their contracts fully.”

“The thing is,” Noah begins, wincing slightly. “It’s just… you know. You could.” He makes some kind of gesture with his hand, though Kurt’s not sure what it’s supposed to mean. 

“We’re just saying, as long as you’re having to put up with her, you could point that out to her.”

Finn frowns. “Guys.”

“It’s not ideal,” Kurt admits with a sigh. “But it is something possible. That you should know about.”

“Eliza is getting so big,” Finn says, almost wistfully. “But, seriously. I don’t even know if I _can_ , you know? I mean, it’s not like we…” He also make an indecipherable gesture with his hand. “And it’s not like I’m interested in starting.”

“Make sure she knows it’s just, uh, business?” Noah says, making a face. “And hey, maybe headphones.”

“I don’t know if she’d even go for it. Even with the contract, you know? It’s not like she’s maternal or whatever, really,” Finn says. 

“It’s up to you, of course,” Kurt says. “That said, if that was something— well, I’m sure that there’s some publications out there who would love to talk to someone who is ‘balancing’ work and family, especially in theatre. Publicity does seem to draw her in.”

“And yeah, it’s a little weird, in terms of almost treating her like a surrogate, too, I guess?” Noah says. “But as long as she knows what’s going on, it’s her decision.”

“Eliza’s already three,” Finn says. “If it’s just her, maybe in another couple of years…”

Kurt puts his hand over Finn’s and squeezes it. “We’re not telling you what to do, darling. We just know how much you’d like another baby, so we wanted you to have all the information.”

Finn gives Kurt a half-smile and nods faintly. “I’ll think about it. Thinking about it doesn’t hurt anything.”

“Don’t hurt yourself thinking about it, you mean?” Noah jokes. 

“Always a danger, dude,” Finn concedes. “Always a danger.”

 

Finn hears the door open and close, followed by Eliza running down the hall, her little feet pounding on the floor. “Is that my girl?” Finn calls out.

“Dad Dad Dad!” Eliza yells, her arms flinging around him. 

“Hey!” Finn says, picking Eliza up and spinning in a circle with her. “How was dancing?”

Eliza makes a face. “I like ‘nastics better. And Miss Madison says to copy her, but I can’t do that.”

“That’s because you dance like your dad,” Finn says. “Nothing wrong with that. Your Puck thinks I’m a good dancer.”

“And the tights are itchy!” Eliza says, eyes widening slightly. 

“In the spring, she can start in their tap class right after ballet,” Rachel says from the doorway, her tone clipped. “Eliza, go put away your ballet clothes properly. I need to speak to your father.”

Finn sets Eliza down, frowning at Rachel, and Eliza starts to slowly meander down the hall towards her room. “She doesn’t enjoy ballet,” Finn says. 

“Of course she enjoys ballet!” Rachel says dismissively. “No, the problem, Finn, is they won’t let her be in _The Nutcracker_.”

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure she doesn’t like it,” Finn counters. “Anyway, of course she can’t be in _The Nutcracker_ , Rach. She’s three.”

“She is absolutely as capable as those barely-five year olds that they cast as party children,” Rachel insists. “It should be based on ability, not age. I saw one of the girls they ‘cast’ going into her class today. That girl didn’t remember what a _plié_ was. Or tendus. Eliza not only has the ability, she would look absolutely darling in those outfits.”

“And she’s _three_ ,” Finn repeats. “And she doesn’t really like ballet.”

“I argued with them the entire time she was in class, and they would not budge!” Rachel continues. “Really, just because you want her to do something else is no reason to impose your dislike of ballet on her. Of course she likes it! And being in a performance in costume, and the chance to do her hair and wear some make-up— it’s a little girl’s dream, Finn.”

“Why do you even care about _The Nutcracker_?” Finn asks, changing tactics. “Don’t you think that’s a little weird to obsess about a Christmas ballet?”

“It’s _iconic_ , Finn,” Rachel says. “And in a few more years, she’ll be old enough to transfer to the School of American Ballet, which means participating in the New York City Ballet’s _Nutcracker_ at the Lincoln Center.”

“But she’s _Jewish_. _You’re_ Jewish.”

“They often let the Jewish dancers have the first night of Hanukkah off from performing,” Rachel fires back. “It’s a step in her career.”

“She doesn’t have a career, Rachel. She’s a preschooler,” Finn says. “And she doesn’t like ballet. She doesn’t like the costumes. She doesn’t like the dancing. She doesn’t give a shit about _The Nutcracker_.”

“Well, unless you get Syd to threaten them, she won’t, you’re right. Making her wait until five for a debut in ballet is going to change everything.” Rachel rolls her eyes. “Why won’t you stop trying to make her fit into the mold of some ideal child?”

“Yeeeah, that’s me that does that, definitely,” Finn says, shaking his head. 

Rachel’s nostrils flare and she pivots to walk down the hall. “I can see you’re not going to be any help. Maybe I’ll look for a new ballet school for next year.”

 

Rachel looks over the menu, even though she has it more or less memorized, then lifts her eyes to look to the door. She and Zachary aren’t supposed to meet for another few minutes, but she always hopes he’ll be early. It’s about ten minutes after their appointed meeting time, however, before he appears, and she smiles brightly at Zachary, lifting her hand in a casual wave. 

Zachary responds with a nod and an almost vague smile, sliding into the seat across from her. “Sorry I’m late,” he says, just like he says every time.

“It gave me time to look over the menu,” Rachel says, still smiling, because it’s possible that he’s stoned enough to overlook the fact that she knows the menu, since it’s one of the few restaurants offering exceptional vegan cuisine below Central Park. “Enjoying the day so far, Zachary?”

“Haven’t been up for too much of it, but seems like a fine day so far,” Zachary says, nodding as he scans the menu. “Spent a half-hour doing Human Studies.”

“Oh? Which station?” Rachel asks. ‘Human Studies’ is a somewhat ridiculous appellation for Zachary’s habit of sitting in the subway stations and watching the trains and the people who ride them, but it is concise and clear, once she realized what he meant. 

“City Hall,” Zachary answers. “Suits and more suits today, madame, and not a character among them.”

“Too concerned with legal matters?” Rachel ventures, then closes her menu and smiles winningly at the server, who quickly takes their orders. “Try one of the stations coming straight from Queens, perhaps.”

“I have the boroughs on rotation. Everything in its season,” Zachary says, somewhat enigmatically. 

“Ah.” Rachel nods, then leans forward. “Finn will be gone all day and into the evening. We should go back to my apartment, after this.”

“Like I said last week, I appreciate the closer location, and yet, I still think my apartment is preferable,” Zachary says. “Logistically speaking.”

Rachel isn’t sure if Zachary feels guilty because of Finn, per se, or simply because he’s such good friends with Kurt and Noah and yet doesn’t realize the extent of what Finn and Kurt are doing. Either way, his ridiculous and misplaced guilt, though mild, is horribly inconvenient. “I’m _quite_ sure that there’s hours yet, Zachary.”

“Hours that can be spent in coital bliss at the casa de Alvarez-Fuller,” Zachary counters. 

“Fewer hours than otherwise,” Rachel says with a sigh, shaking her head. “Fine, Zachary. After we enjoy our food here, we’ll go to yours. One day soon, though, you’ll come back to my apartment.”

 

Finn’s tried to find a way to bring up the baby conversation that would make it seem like a natural thing to discuss, but the opportunity hasn’t really presented itself, and Finn thinks he should just go ahead and broach the topic. He reads Eliza her bedtime story, gives her a kiss, and turns out her bedroom light before heading into the living room. Rachel is perched on the sofa reading an issue of _New York_. Finn sits down in the chair opposite her and watches her for a few minutes.

Rachel turns a page and looks at Finn, raising an eyebrow. “What is it, Finn?”

“So… so Eliza’s getting pretty big,” Finn begins.

“Is she? I thought you said the pediatrician said she was still small for her age. It’s really good that she is, though.” Rachel tsks and shakes her head. “So many opportunities are limited in the business for really tall women.”

Finn frowns at that, but powers on. “I think we should have another baby.”

“What?” Rachel closes the magazine abruptly and puts it down. “What on earth are you talking about?”

“Well, you know, with Puck and Kurt expecting a baby, I’ve been thinking about babies a lot,” Finn says. “And I think we should have another one. I want another baby.”

Rachel frowns. “I don’t think that’s possible, Finn. I have a job and a contract, even if I did want another baby.”

“That’s a funny thing, about the contract,” Finn says. “You know, it doesn’t say you have to stop when you get pregnant. And it even says you can come back after you have the baby. I read it.”

“It— what? That’s not how the standard contract works, Finn. Are you sure you read it correctly? It’s a lot of confusing legal terms.”

“I even asked Syd,” Finn says. “She says that they wrote it that way on purpose to protect their actresses. It’s very progressive, Syd says.”

Rachel’s mouth opens, then closes, and she looks angry for a few seconds before she speaks. “Well, that’s a welcome change, I’m sure, especially if other shows follow suit, but the fact remains, Finn, I don’t know that our having another baby is something that I would really like.”

“You know, I’ve been thinking about this…” Finn gestures between the two of them. “And now that Eliza’s so big, I’m not really sure that there’s a lot of reason for this arrangement to keep on the way it has been. I mean, when Eliza was a baby and a toddler it made a lot of sense, but now she’s big, and you’re hardly ever here, and I do most of the preschool stuff and most of the meals for her.” He shrugs. “I don’t know that there’s much point in continuing this.”

“Fine,” Rachel says, voice clipped. “I’ll consider what you said. About another baby. Happy?”

“I’m sure we’d both be happy to continue our professional relationship that we’ve worked out,” Finn responds. Under any other circumstances, Finn would consider what he’s doing here with Rachel—which is functionally blackmailing her, or at least bribing her, into having a baby—is awful, but she’s the one who set things up the way they are. If Finn has to be stuck with her, why shouldn’t he do what Puck and Kurt suggested, and make the best of the situation? She gets to keep pretending to the rest of the world that she has a perfect marriage, and she gets to continue having access to the money, and Finn gets another baby out of it. It’s not really that different from what Kurt and Puck have with Hannah, only all of them like Hannah a lot more.

 

“Oh shit,” Zachary mutters. 

“What is it?” Rachel asks, her eyes still closed. “We don’t have to be anywhere.”

“We had, uh. A technical difficulty,” Zachary says. 

“A what? What do you mean?” Rachel opens her eyes and sits up. “Zachary?”

“The condom broke,” Zachary says matter-of-factly. 

“Shit.” Rachel frowns and then lies back on the bed again, pulling the sheet with her. “Did it make a mess?”

“Literally or existentially?”

“Literally, of course!”

“Then, yes,” Zachary says. “Can you give me an idea of the size of the crisis we’re looking at?”

“Oh, I have no idea,” Rachel admits. “I’ll have to check. And you need to go get a towel or something! Ugh.” Zachary goes to get a towel, and Rachel tries to mentally think about her cycle. She’s not particularly regular, sometimes twenty-eight days, sometimes closer to thirty-five, and she’s really not sure if she needs to be concerned or not. Even if she does need to be, well – Finn wants another baby. It does mean the two of them fumbling through a no-doubt awkward and alcohol-fueled evening, so that Finn thinks he could be the father, but the other option is him preparing to walk out. If anyone leaves, Rachel thinks it should really be her; being the instigator rather than the one who is left seems far preferable to her. 

Rachel decides she can wait a few days before she informs Finn of her new ‘decision’ and the two of them engage in what she can only think of as marital activities. She isn’t exactly pleased with the turn of events, but circumstances have made her decision easier, and when Zachary returns with a towel, she smiles at him. Hopefully he won’t notice it’s a little bit false.

“It’s fine,” Rachel says, trying to sound confident and chipper. “We’re absolutely fine.”

 

“How’s your coffee, Eliza?” Finn asks Eliza, who sits next to him at the table, drinking her mug of milk with a splash of coffee in it.

“Good,” Eliza says seriously, nodding before taking another sip. 

“Did you need more sugar?” Finn asks. 

“No, this is enough.” Eliza smiles at him. “This week we are going to learn about pasta!”

“Awesome. Bring some home for me, ok?” Finn says. Rachel passes by the table on the way into the kitchen, then comes out again with a cup of coffee. 

“Go get your coat and your bag, Eliza,” Rachel orders her. “Coffee time is over.”

Eliza slides out of her chair and walks towards the coat closet. Finn frowns at Rachel. “I wish you wouldn’t talk to her like that.”

“Like what?” Rachel says dismissively, sitting in Eliza’s empty chair. “I’ve decided that you are correct. We should have another baby. Or, more properly speaking, I think we should see what happens this month.”

Finn sets down his coffee cup in surprise. “Oh yeah? Just this month?”

“It only took one attempt the other two times,” Rachel says. “If it’s not meant to happen, it’s not meant to happen.”

“Ok,” Finn says. “That means you need to cut it out with Zachary for this month.”

Rachel takes a sip of coffee. “I have not seen Zachary outside of the show in well over a month,” she says stiffly. 

“Ok. We’ll give it the month. If it happens, it happens, like you said,” Finn says. “There a specific day we should, you know. Do this?”

“Today or tomorrow,” Rachel says calmly. 

“Alright,” Finn says. “Come home after the show tonight and we’ll see if we can manage.”

“You’ll want to stop and get yourself a bottle of that liquor,” Rachel says snidely, standing up. “Unless, of course, you already have plenty here.”

“Don’t worry,” Finn says. “I’ll come up with something.”

 

Noah leans back against the stairs on stage and tilts his head back to look at Finn, sitting on a higher step. “Kurt’s going over part of the second act with Rafael, again. I swear it’s his version of nesting or whatever.”

“It’s cute when he’s like that,” Finn says. “Let him nest if he needs to.”

“Hey, better than cleaning doorframes or something,” Noah agrees. “You’ll have to tell me what my version is, I’m not that self-aware.”

“When I figure it out, I’ll let you know,” Finn promises. 

One of the backstage doors opens and closes, and Noah groans a little as he recognizes Rachel’s fussy footsteps a few seconds ahead of Eliza calling out. “Dad? Puck? Kurt?”

“Just your dad and me out here,” Noah calls back as Rachel and Eliza appear, and Rachel looks furious. 

“Finn, you will not _believe_ this!”

“No, probably I won’t,” Finn agrees. “What won’t I believe? Come here, Eliza. You can sit with me.”

Eliza walks up the stairs carefully, sitting a step below Finn, and Noah turns so he’s sitting sideways on his. “Hey, sweet potato,” he says, and Eliza giggles. 

Rachel frowns at Noah, and he rolls his eyes. “They posted the cast list for the end of the year revue her musical theatre class is doing. They gave the lead role to Sophia Rossi,” she finishes dramatically, then stares at Finn and Noah as if that knowledge is supposed to mean something. Noah looks at Finn quizzically, raising an eyebrow. 

“Is she famous or something?” Noah whispers. 

“I think she’s a preschooler,” Finn whispers back.

“Sophia has very pretty hair,” Eliza says factually. “And her favorite song is ‘Five Little Ducks’.”

“Finn! Did you hear what I said?” Rachel demands. 

“Yeah. Sophia has the lead role,” Finn says. “Is she going to sing ‘Five Little Ducks’, Eliza? If she likes that song, I bet she’d like to sing it.”

Eliza giggles and shakes her head. “No, we have to sing ‘Do Re Mi’.”

“Which is both a classic and an appropriate vocal training exercise,” Rachel says. “The fact remains that Eliza was not cast in the lead role, and I believe we should lodge a complaint.”

“Eliza, did you want the lead role?” Finn asks Eliza. 

“No.” Eliza looks at Rachel, then drops her voice to a whisper. “Mommy said if I sat up straighter when I sing, I would have beaten Sophia, but I just want to play the song.”

“I don’t see what the problem is, then,” Finn says to Rachel. “Eliza’s not upset. Even if lodging a complaint over a preschool play were in any way appropriate, Eliza doesn’t _care_ that she doesn’t have the lead.”

“Of course she doesn’t because she has some ridiculous idea that it would be more fun to ‘play the guitar like the lady in the movie’,” Rachel says disapprovingly. 

Noah grins at Eliza. “That’s my girl,” he whispers, and Eliza grins back. 

“I tried to tell her how the lead part is _always_ more fun,” Rachel continues. “Tell her, Finn! Remember how we enjoyed being the leads together in high school?”

“That was us, not Eliza, and it was high school, not preschool,” Finn says. “I wouldn’t have wanted to be the lead in preschool either, probably.”

“You still had that lisp,” Noah reminds Finn, almost laughing. “It would’ve been great.”

“It wasn’t a lisp,” Finn protests. 

“Uh-huh.” Noah shakes his head and looks at Eliza. “Some people have more fun being the lead, like your mom, and some people have more fun singing or playing with a whole group of their friends.”

“I don’t _want_ to sing by myself. Or sit straight,” Eliza says, nodding a little. 

“Eliza Bette!” Rachel says sharply. “You are out of line!”

“Puck, why don’t you and Eliza go see if you can find some chocolate?” Finn says. “I think I saw some in Kurt’s dressing room.”

“Sure,” Noah agrees, standing up before picking up Eliza. “C’mon, sweet potato. Maybe we’ll see about those chords on the guitar, too.” He starts carefully down the stairs, ignoring the look on Rachel’s face. 

“You two spoil her!” Rachel says to Finn. “You are going to _ruin_ her! Chocolate and guitars and roles in the chorus!”

“She’s a _child_ , Rachel,” Finn snaps right back, voice raised. “Stop treating her like she’s your second shot at stardom!”

“She is being raised in a city with every opportunity, and I want her to take full advantage of those,” Rachel yells back. “It’s criminal the way you would have her waste her childhood.”

“Okay, sweet potato,” Noah says quietly to Eliza as they walk into the wings. “You just hum or something.” Eliza nods, her face buried in Noah’s shoulder, and he sighs, the sound of Finn and Rachel yelling still carrying, even as he and Eliza head towards Kurt’s dressing room. 

 

“Did you know about that farce?” Rachel demands once she, Eliza, and Finn are inside a cab leaving the brit shalom. 

“Don’t start, Rachel,” Finn says. “Seriously. Don’t start.”

“They didn’t circumcise that baby!” Rachel continues, like Finn didn’t speak. 

“No, they didn’t,” Finn says, “and you were incredibly rude about it.”

“That is— I cannot believe that the place Noah attends would condone such a thing.” Rachel presses her lips together in a thin line. “Imagine how his grandmother felt!”

“Nana was just happy to have a great-grandson,” Finn points out. “Nana didn’t care if Harvey was brissed or not.”

“Other people, observant Jewish people for starters, do! They aren’t doing that baby any favors.”

“I’m thinking Harvey probably appreciates it,” Finn says. “Harvey’s probably pretty fucking happy nothing got cut off today.”

Rachel sniffs. “They’re already letting him dictate the pace of their household, aren’t they? Rescuing him at the first sign of distress. Your mother barely had a chance to hold him!”

“He’s only eight days old, Rach. I think he can probably wait a couple months at least before people start telling him to suck it up,” Finn says, rolling his eyes. 

“Either way,” Rachel says as they stop in front of their building, “I certainly hope you don’t think I would allow such a ridiculous ceremony in place of a proper bris for _this_ baby.”

“It wasn’t a ridiculous ceremony,” Finn argues. “It was really nice, and— _this_ baby?” He stares at Rachel. “Rach?”

Rachel tosses her head and walks towards the entrance. “I remembered how you worried so much at first with her,” she says, gesturing to Eliza. “But I’m thirteen weeks now.”

“Thirteen weeks _pregnant_?” Finn asks. “And you’re just now telling me?”

“What?” Rachel says defensively, looking at Eliza. “I knew you’d want to tell her right away, and what if something had gone wrong? But here.” She opens her purse and rifles around for a moment before handing him a piece of paper. “See? December fifth.”

Finn looks at the vaguely baby-shaped blur on the paper, his face suddenly breaking into a grin. He pulls out his phone and snaps a quick picture of the ultrasound picture, sending it to both Kurt and Puck, before kneeling down next to Eliza and showing her the picture.

“You see this, Eliza? That’s your baby brother or sister,” Finn says. “Isn’t that neat?”

“Like Harvey?” Eliza asks. 

“Yep. Just like Harvey!” Finn says. “You’ll have _two_ babies to play with!”

“Not exactly like Harvey,” Rachel says. “Harvey is your _cousin_. This is your brother or sister. Harvey’s not your brother.”

“Nana said we looked alike,” Eliza retorts.

“Shh,” Finn whispers into Eliza’s ear. “ _We_ know the truth.”

Eliza giggles and nods as Rachel shakes her head. “I suppose you may as well tell your parents while they’re in town.”

“I’ve gotta call Kurt and Puck first,” Finn says. He hits Kurt’s number and puts the phone up to his ear, ignoring the long-suffering look on Rachel’s face. The phone rings three times before Kurt answers. 

“Hi,” Kurt says quickly. “Hang on.” There’s a pause and then Kurt speaks again. “Okay, speaker set up, but you’re going to have to listen to Harvey eating.” Finn can hear the sound of Harvey noisily drinking from a bottle in the background.

“He eats like his Papa,” Finn laughs.

“I heard that,” Puck says. “What’s up?” 

“I just thought I should call and give Harvey the heads up that he only gets to be the youngest member of the family until December,” Finn says. “So he’d better enjoy it while he can.”

“Until— ohh,” Kurt says. “Really, darling? She just now told you? That’s—”

“Crazy,” Puck interrupts. “Is she really pregnant?”

“Check your phones. I sent you a picture!” Finn says. “I think it looks like another girl. Definitely a girl-shaped blur.”

Puck and Kurt laugh. “Okay, hang on,” Puck says. “Oh, hey, sure. I mean, we didn’t see a boy-shaped blur to compare to, but it looks like Eliza, I guess.”

“When in December? I can’t quite make it out,” Kurt says. “Congratulations, darling.”

“The fifth, and thanks!” Finn says. “This baby’ll practically be Harvey’s twin, huh?”

“Close enough.” Kurt pauses. “Does Eliza know yet?”

“Oh, yeah. I’ll tell you more about that later,” Finn says. “I only just found out, so I’ve got to process it a little bit. Shit, and come up with some names!”

“You’ll figure out a good one,” Puck says. 

“Of course you unilaterally want to name the child,” Rachel mutters in the background. Finn just makes a face at her and turns his attention back to the phone.

“I’ll float some suggestions,” Finn says. “Gotta go, but I’ll call a little later tonight, ok?”

“Okay,” Kurt agrees, and Harvey makes a squeaking noise, like he’s thinking about crying. 

“Congrats,” Puck says. “Be good.”

“I’m always good,” Finn says. “Bye, Harvey!”

“Can Harvey talk on the phone?” Eliza asks as the call ends. “What does he say?”

“He says ‘squeak squeak’,” Finn says. “And congratulations on being a big sister!”

Eliza laughs. “Silly Dad, Harvey can’t talk!”

“He can’t talk English, but lucky for Harvey, I’m really good at speaking baby,” Finn says. “And he definitely said congratulations.”

 

Finn doesn’t usually stop by the apartment on Tuesday, not after he’s left in the morning to take Eliza to preschool, but he needs to put in an hour of work making the edits to his article before he submits it. He takes his shoes off by the door and goes straight to his office, not flipping on the lights. He’s rifling through some papers on his desk and waiting for his laptop to boot up when he hears the sounds coming from the bedroom.

While Finn hasn’t had a lot of personal experience with it, he can recognize that Rachel is making sex noises. The sounds, and her voice, are both distinctive, as is the male voice Finn hears shortly thereafter. Apparently Rachel’s claims of not seeing Zachary anymore weren’t true, and while it’s not exactly something comfortable to hear, Finn isn’t particularly bothered by the knowledge that Rachel and Zachary are still involved. At least, he isn’t bothered until it occurs to him that if Rachel has been seeing Zachary all this time, the timing of the pregnancy, and Rachel’s long wait to tell Finn about it, is suddenly called into question.

Finn sits down heavily in his desk chair, head in hands. Rachel and Zachary’s voices echo through the apartment, and Finn stands up again, pouring himself a scotch. He’s on his third scotch when he hears the sound of footsteps in the hallway, then the front door opening and closing. Rachel walks past Finn’s office without seeming to notice he’s in it, towards the bathroom, and after another couple of minutes, she starts to walk past in the other direction. Finn sets his empty glass down loudly on the desk as she passes, making her jump.

“Finn! You scared me,” Rachel says, and then slowly puts her hand on her belly. “I was just going to nap.” She gestures to her bathrobe. “Pregnancy’s tiring.”

“Yeah, I know,” Finn says. “You’re probably tired. Especially after fucking Zachary.”

Rachel goes pale but doesn’t deny it. “Were you _spying_ on me? Sitting here in the dark like some kind of creep?”

“I came home to do some work. Apparently I wasn’t the only one.”

“You’re never home on Tuesdays.” Rachel puts her other hand on her belly. “You— not on Tuesdays.”

“Sorry to interrupt your busy schedule,” Finn says wryly. “Thought you hadn’t been seeing him outside work for months.”

Rachel presses her lips together, her chin jutting up, and doesn’t answer. Finn pours himself another scotch and drinks it slowly, watching her the whole time. 

“The baby’s yours,” Rachel blurts out suddenly. “It isn’t Zachary’s. There’s no way, I’m almost certain. It’s yours.”

“Oh, it’s mine,” Finn says. “Either way, it’s mine. I promise you that.”

Rachel looks uncertain after he speaks, and she deflates a little. “I think perhaps I’ll go take that nap now,” she finally says. 

“I think that’s a good idea,” Finn says. “I think that’s a very, very good idea.”

 

Kurt frowns at the time on his phone and stands up, walking softly past where Harvey fell asleep in the middle of the floor on a blanket. He goes into the kitchen and leans against the refrigerator, watching Noah wash bottles for a moment. “Did you hear from Finn?” 

Noah shakes his head. “No.” He shuts off the water and turns around, propping himself against the counter. “It’s getting late.”

“Yes.” Kurt purses his lips and then hears a faint knock at the door. “Is that…?”

“Sounds like Eliza,” Noah agrees, and the two of them go to open the door. Eliza is holding the bag of take-out, and she looks solemn. 

“Dad doesn’t feel well, Puck,” she says, then smiles a little at Kurt. “See! I used well!”

“Yes, you did,” Kurt agrees, smiling at her and taking the food from her before taking her hand. He looks closely at Finn, who does seem to not feel well, but he also smells like he spent the day at a scotch distillery, something that doesn’t happen when he’s the adult in charge of Eliza. 

“C’mon, darling,” Noah says, tugging Finn inside and then shutting the door and locking it. “What’s going on?”

“Eliza, can you go find Ennis?” Finn asks. Eliza nods and trots down the hall, calling for Ennis as she goes. Finn crosses to the futon and nearly crumples onto it. “She’s still fucking Zachary,” he says. 

Kurt sets the food down and exchanges a glance with Noah. “Still or again?” he asks carefully. 

“Still,” Finn says. “She’s _almost_ certain the baby’s mine.”

“Shit,” Noah says succinctly, sitting down beside Finn and wrapping his arms around him. “Shit, darling.”

Kurt sits on the other side of Finn, his hands on Finn’s shoulder and leg. “Would you like us to fire her?” he says after a few moments. “We can’t kill her because of the baby, but I’m sure we can find a reason to fire her.”

Finn shakes his head slowly. “I told her… I told her either way, that’s my baby. It’s true, right?”

“Yes,” Kurt answers, and if it’s not true legally speaking, he and Noah will talk to Syd and Tina and be sure that they find a way for it to be. “Of course it is.”

“We’ll make sure of it,” Noah says, echoing Kurt’s thoughts.

“Ok,” Finn says. He closes his eyes and lets his head drop against Noah’s shoulder. 

“Why don’t you and Eliza stay over tonight?” Noah says softly. “She’s got a pair of pajamas here and we can wash out her clothes, okay?”

“Ok,” Finn whispers. “I love you guys. And Harvey. And Eliza.”

“We all love you too,” Kurt says, kissing the side of Finn’s neck. They sit there quietly until Kurt realizes that Finn is, if not passed out, at least asleep. “I suppose it explains her change of heart,” he whispers to Noah, who nods. 

“Yeah. Fuck. It’s just cruel.”

“Indeed.” Kurt sighs. “I’ll feed Eliza before Harvey wakes up again.”

“Hopefully Finn’ll wake up and eat later,” Noah says, nodding at Kurt’s words. “Think she’ll even notice?”

Kurt shakes his head, scowling. “I doubt it.”

 

Harvey’s head wiggles back and forth as Noah pats his back, and Noah shifts him slightly with a wince. Spit-up on the burp cloth or even down his back is one thing, but spit-up in his hair is another thing entirely. “Just let ’er rip, Harv,” Noah says, still patting his back. “You’ll feel better afterward.”

“We keep getting all sorts of baby tips, but I haven’t seen ‘talking about the need to burp’ on the list of tried and true remedies,” Kurt says, sounding amused.

“Yeah, but what do they know?” Noah retorts with a grin.

“True.” Kurt leans his head back against the futon. “Do you think it’s the subject matter or just the talking?”

“Oh, probably a little of both.” Noah shakes his head. “So, Harv, we’ve got something important to tell you.”

“Oh, yes.” Kurt nods, then laughs as Harvey finally burps. “Well, now you can sit down at least.”

“Maybe,” Noah says dubiously, sitting down beside Kurt and slowly shifting Harvey off his shoulder. “It’s almost afternoon, after all. And afternoon’s a fifty-fifty proposition on sitting.”

“At least it’s not dinner or later.” Kurt shrugs almost philosophically, and Noah mentally shakes his head a little. If someone had asked which one of them would deal better with a so-called ‘high needs’ baby, Noah would have said him, but it turns out Kurt’s better at accepting things as they are. Privately, Noah thinks the ‘high needs’ label is just an attempt on some parents’ part to make themselves feel better about a fussy baby. He’s not sure what they really expected; it makes sense Harvey’s got a little bit of the flair for the dramatic.

Harvey lets Noah sit, though, and Kurt continues after a moment of watching him.

“Dad told us that your little sibling is going to be a sister,” Kurt says to Harvey. “One big sister and one little sister.”

“I think Harvey still finds the pacifier more interesting than a little sister,” Noah says, watching Harvey take the pacifier and stare at Kurt.

“Undoubtedly.” Kurt runs a finger down Harvey’s cheek. “But really you’ll be just a little older than your little sister. You two will grow up together.”

“It’s not long. Before he’s done,” Noah clarifies, speaking softly, and Kurt shakes his head.

“We don’t know when, Harvey. But Dad and your sisters – well, we keep hoping anyway.” Kurt takes Harvey after a moment, arranging him on his chest and draping a blanket over him. “I suppose one of these days I have to figure out what to tell Rafael, if and when I’ll be performing again.”

“We’ve… sort of been writing,” Noah points out, laughing. Since Harvey was born, they’ve written exactly half of a song – a half of a song that doesn’t go thematically with any other songs they’d written back before Harvey was born. “I think we’re allowed to wait to make decisions and shit until we’re getting more sleep.”  
“Odd how babies sleep so much, and yet, their parents sleep so little.” Kurt laughs wryly. “I don’t care what the books say, ‘sleeping when the baby sleeps’ doesn’t work when the baby only sleeps in fifteen to thirty minute chunks.”

“Yeah, power napping doesn’t really cut it if there’s nothing else but power naps.” Noah yawns and then smiles at Harvey, sleeping on Kurt’s chest. “On the other hand, maybe we should doze now.” He leans his head on Kurt’s shoulder, and Kurt laughs quietly.

“Am I everyone’s pillow?”

Noah nods. “Yep. That’s you, blue eyes. Everyone’s pillow.”

 

“I need to review this schedule with you,” Rachel announces from the doorway of Finn’s office. Finn sighs and shuts his laptop.

“Ok, let’s do it quickly,” Finn says. “I have to finish this.”

“It’s merely Eliza’s extracurriculars. I can only take her two days each week, and of course after the baby comes, I won’t be able to at all,” Rachel says, walking in and putting a piece of paper on top of Finn’s laptop. “I did try to make sure everything was below 110th.”  
Finn looks at the paper and frowns. “Rachel, this is _not_ what we talked about. Where’s her gymnastics?”

“Ballet and tap, plus musical theatre, should be enough physical activity and work on flexibility,” Rachel answers. “And yes, the drama class is distinctly different from musical theatre. I’m very disappointed that the only vocal coaching geared to preschoolers is a group class, but we’ll make the best of it.”

“No,” Finn says.

“What do you mean? I searched all of Manhattan for private voice lessons, but none of them would take a four year old,” Rachel says, looking almost panicked. “The group class will have to do. Oh, and isn’t it wonderful? The Hebrew school, I mean, they added a pre-kindergarten program this year.”

“ _No_ ,” Finn repeats. “No voice lessons. No musical theatre. No drama class. No fucking ballet and tap.”

“Finn!” Rachel looks outraged. “Do you hate me so much that you want to destroy your daughter’s future?”

“And no fucking Hebrew school, either,” Finn says. “Puck says they usually don’t even start that until kindergarten. She wants to do gymnastics. She wants to do an art class. She wants to start piano lessons. Those are the things _Eliza_ wants to do, and those are the only things I’m putting her in.”

Rachel gapes at him. “I— how _dare_ you? How will she ever succeed?”

“If your only definition of successful is her being exactly like you, I hope she fails miserably,” Finn says. “She’s not you, Rachel. She’s not the miniature version of Rachel Berry. She’s Eliza Hudson, and she wants to do gymnastics, paint, and play piano. Maybe you should actually take one fucking minute to get to know the daughter you already have before you have a second one… who’s _also_ not going to be a miniature version of you.”

“Because you’ve turned her against all of those things!” Rachel says, starting to cry theatrically. “She can tell that you hold them in contempt.”

“Yeah, Rach, I’m known for my contempt of musical theatre,” Finn says. “That’s why I fucking invested in _Milk_. It’s because I hate theatre so goddamn much. Or maybe it’s just that I won’t let you do to our kids what your dads did to you.”

“My dads did nothing wrong!” Rachel says stridently, then her eyes widen. “You _what_?”

“Gymnastics. Piano. Art.” Finn opens his laptop again. “Don’t waste money signing her up for shit I’m not taking her to.”

Rachel stomps her foot, then stands in the room watching him for several minutes before she huffs and leaves the room, crumpling her piece of paper in her hands as she goes. 

 

Noah looks around the small wine cellar that serves as a private dining room, listening for the door to softly close, and then turns to look expectantly at Syd. 

“I almost feel wined and dined,” Syd admits, pulling out a tablet and calling up several documents. “I assume you want business before lunch? Finn?”

“Yeah. What’ve you got for me, Syd?” Finn asks. “Tell me you’ve got something.”

“I do,” Syd says calmly. “Several somethings. On the off chance plans A, B, C, and D fail, though, there’s also plan R.”

“R for run,” Noah says wryly. “But that involves being wanted internationally, I think.”

“Let’s try to not have to have that plan,” Finn says. 

“That’s my preference as well,” Kurt admits. “Syd?”

“Okay. The law automatically assumes a woman who is married to a man, then gives birth, is giving birth to that man’s child. Legally speaking, you are assumed to be the father. As long as no one challenges that, that’s all there is to it. That’s plan A, in fact. That your name goes on the birth certificate, Zachary keeps his mouth shut, and Rachel doesn’t let on that there’s even a possibility otherwise.”

“I don’t know that we can trust Rachel to keep her mouth shut,” Finn says. “She’s already made a few comments about how I’d better remember that only one of us is guaranteed to be the parent of the baby.” He frowns and shakes his head. “I feel like I’m stuck, Syd.”

“Zachary at least won’t be saying anything,” Kurt says, sounding satisfied, and Noah takes Finn’s hand. “He doesn’t have any interest in being a parent, and he’s not going to challenge the baby’s paternity.” 

“Which is excellent.” Syd smiles encouragingly. “It’s technically Zachary who would have to challenge your claim in court. Rachel can file to establish, but generally speaking, the court wants to see the potential father. That said, there’s definitely things we can do and have in place, prior to the birth.” 

“What about at the hospital?” Noah asks, frowning. “What can be done to keep her from being vindictive there?”

“The Berrys are flying in when she’s 38 weeks,” Finn says. “And they’re staying for at least two weeks. There’s a lot Rachel could do with her dads here.”

“Okay. I’m going to draw up some papers that you can file with the court and the hospital, and we’ll only use them if necessary,” Syd says with a frown. “The Berrys don’t have any legal rights in this situation. And finally, New York state law gives you the right to block any petition, as Rachel’s legal husband, plus it views the best interests of the baby or child as the determining factor before letting a paternity challenge go forward.”

“So you’re saying they throw out petty challenges from idiots like Rachel?” Noah asks, trying not to laugh at the mental image he has of Rachel stomping her foot at a judge and then storming out of a courtroom. 

“I’m saying it would be quite likely, especially if Zachary was unwilling to provide evidence of his own.”

“And I don’t _care_ about the biology,” Finn says. “I mean, I care, but it doesn’t make a difference to me. That’s my baby.”

“And that’s why there’s plan run away to a tropical island,” Kurt agrees. “We’ll stock up on baby sunscreen in another month or so.”

“You pick a name yet?” Noah asks Finn. “Harv wants to know.” He gestures towards the stroller, Harvey sleeping peacefully inside it. 

“I don’t know if Rachel’ll sign off on it,” Finn says, “but I’m thinking… Charlotte. Charlotte Rose.”

“Charlotte,” Kurt repeats, and Noah nods.

“It’s a good strong name,” Noah says. He looks towards the stroller again. “What do you think, Harvey?” he says quietly, and then turns back to the others. “Well, no crying, so it must be good.”

“Or Syd slipped him some wine,” Finn says. 

“I would never do that,” Syd protests. “I would get an approved sleeping aid. Or just hand him to you, Finn.”

“Harvey does seem to only like three things consistently,” Kurt agrees. “And two of them are the stroller and Finn.”

“I’m with him on the third thing, though,” Finn says. “Food always makes me happy, too.”

“Now I know what to do at 2 tomorrow morning,” Noah says, laughing. “I’ll warm up a frozen burrito and a bottle, call you, and send you out with Harv in the stroller.”

“Is it a beef burrito?” Finn asks.

Noah shrugs. “Could be chicken, if you’d rather.”

“No, it needs to be beef.”

“I’ll make sure and stock up,” Noah says.

“Does anyone eat the chicken?” Kurt asks. “Besides Tina when she drops in.”

“Eliza eats the chicken,” Finn says. 

“Right. Eliza and Tina.” Kurt shakes his head. “But I do like Charlotte, darling.”

“Thanks,” Finn says. “That was one of my favorite books when I was little, and when she’s old enough to read, she can tell everybody they named the book after her.”

“And you three will insist she’s telling the truth.” Syd laughs. “All of her classmates will be very confused.”

Noah shrugs. “Hey, we just have a job to do.”

 

Kurt can feel his face light up as they go down towards Fifth Avenue, approaching the Met, and the hot dog vendors come into view. “That was the worst idea ever for a baby shower,” Kurt says quietly to Harvey, pitching his voice just loud enough for Noah to hear. “Vegan brunch is not something omnivores should have to endure.”

“My waffles weren’t actually that bad,” Noah admits in a whisper. “But the company wasn’t all that great.”

“I’ve never actually wished I was straight,” Kurt muses. “The only two times I’ve come close have been at Rachel’s showers.”

“Did you say something, Kurt?” Carole says from several steps ahead, then continues when Kurt quickly shakes his head. “It’s too bad Rachel was feeling tired and wanted to go rest before dinner, but I think I see Finn, Burt, Eliza, and Audrey waiting for us!”

“I’m sure pregnancy is just tiring,” Noah says after the silence stretches too long, and Kurt ducks his head when Noah continues quietly. “Thankfully.”

“Go get me a hot dog, please?” Kurt asks, and Noah laughs, stopping at the cart when they pass it. Carole doesn’t even notice, walking farther ahead and waving at the others. By the time Kurt and Harvey catch up, Carole is already mid-description of the shower. 

“And of course since it’s the second baby you two have had, Finn, there were even more nice gifts for Rachel!” Carole says. “And a few for you, too, Eliza.”

“Yeah, ’cause what Rachel needs is more gifts,” Finn mutters under his breath to Kurt. “Hey, Harvald,” he adds, putting his arms out. “Come see me, buddy!”

“He ate not long ago,” Kurt says, passing Harvey to Finn. “So now he’ll be doubly pleased.”

“So, that means it’s gonna be poop time, huh?” Finn says, more to Harvey than to Kurt. Harvey grins at Finn. “Bet he’s not gonna like it when Charlotte gets here and he has to wait his turn for poop time.”

“Stringpot’s going to use diapers like you,” Eliza informs Harvey, then looks behind her. Carole and Burt are a few feet away, and Eliza nods. “I think she’s going to look like you. Because she’s our little sister.”

“That’s right,” Finn says. “Charlotte’s the little sister, and Harvard here’s stuck in the middle.”

Eliza giggles. “That’s not Harvey’s name!”

“Nope, his name is Harv,” Noah says, coming up behind them. “Here’s your hot dog. Got you one too, darling.”

“Thanks,” Finn says. “None for you, Harvacious.” 

“He’ll survive,” Kurt says wryly. “Won’t you, Harvey?” Harvey swats his arm towards Finn’s hot dog, though Kurt’s pretty sure Harvey wouldn’t have known what to do with the hot dog if he had caught it. 

“Let’s go spend a little time inside the museum,” Carole calls. “I know Rachel probably doesn’t want to spend too much time on her feet now, since she’s almost thirty-eight weeks, but we can all have some fun these few days before Thanksgiving! And help Rachel finish up the shopping.”

“I hope she has the baby while we’re here,” Audrey says. “I want to watch baby Charlotte being born.”

“And it would free you more quickly from the Berrys,” Kurt says under his breath to Finn. 

“That would be pretty cool,” Finn says to Audrey. “Not sure Rachel would go for that, though.”

“It is fascinating,” Carole agrees with Audrey. “And just think, Finn, in a few short weeks, you’ll be carrying _your_ baby!”

Kurt isn’t sure if he visibly tenses or Noah just reads him quickly, putting his arm around Kurt’s shoulders snugly and whispering into his ear. “I’ll get you a voodoo doll later.”

“Luckily, I have two arms,” Finn says, tersely. “Two arms, two babies.”

“If you were an octopus, could you carry eight babies, Dad?”

“Absolutely,” Finn says. 

“Hopefully nobody’s having eight babies, though,” Burt jokes. “It’s just the one, right?”

“Don’t be silly,” Carole laughs. “But I wouldn’t _object_ to a total of eight grandbabies, just for the record, Finn.”

“I’ll do my best,” Finn says. “No promises as to their origin, though.”

“Eliza,” Kurt says gravely, “since they have Greek and Roman art here, have you ever heard the myth of how Athena was born?”

 

Rachel’s due date comes and goes, despite her previous insistence that she’d go into labor even earlier than she did with Eliza. She starts complaining about how long the pregnancy has lasted the day before her due date. The complaining gets worse with each passing day, and the only thing that really balances it out for Finn is the fact that Rachel’s dads have to fly back to Lima the day after her due date. Not having to deal with Hiram and Leroy every day improves Finn’s mood a little, though Rachel’s preferred method of coping with her discomfort and unhappiness about the continuing pregnancy and the lack of her dads’ ‘unconditional support’ seems to be yelling at Finn and Eliza.

Finn and Eliza spend a lot of those last few days hiding out at Puck and Kurt’s apartment, playing with Harvey and eating non-vegan food. They return to the apartment they share with Rachel as close to Eliza’s bedtime as possible, and Finn gets Eliza tucked into bed, just to be sure Rachel doesn’t get one last chance to snap at Eliza. Once Eliza is asleep, Finn goes straight to his office, where he works with his door closed. Each additional day past Rachel’s due date leaves her grumpier, with an even more hair-trigger temper.

Rachel finally goes into labor six days past her due date. Finn’s just finished getting Eliza into bed when Rachel storms down the hallway, one hand on her belly.

“You need to call whoever’s staying with Eliza,” Rachel says sharply, then puts her other hand on her belly and starts some loud huffy breathing.

“Hannah,” Finn says. “You know it’s Hannah. When did it start?”

“Just now,” Rachel says after about a minute passes. “They’re close together, though.”

“Ok. I’ll go ahead and call Hannah. Is your bag packed?”

“It’s _been_ packed.” Rachel looks at her stomach irritably. “I’m going to go have vegan energy broth.”

Finn nods and goes into his office, where he first texts _It’s time_ to Kurt’s phone, then calls Hannah. “Hey, stinkweed. You up for a little babysitting?”

“You want me to come pick her up or do you have time to bring her here?” Hannah asks. “’Cause I’m not staying there without any eggs or honey, even.”

“Rachel says her contractions are close together, so if you don’t mind coming here,” Finn says. “I mean, it could be like last time and take a while, but Mom says all bets are off on second babies. Just look at Aud.”

Hannah laughs. “Yeah, I don’t think _she_ would handle an accidental homebirth well. Okay. Stevie’s with me.”

“Cool. If you decide to stay here, you can send him out for some ham.”

“Bacon. Bacon-wrapped filet. Don’t worry, we’ll save you some. Okay. On our way.” The call ends without any other warning. 

Finn takes a few minutes to make sure he has everything he needs, then he texts Syd, and reads the texted reply from Kurt: _Meet you there_. He stays in his office until Hannah arrives twenty minutes later, which might not be the most compassionate thing in the world, considering Rachel’s in labor with his kid, but it also guarantees he won’t say anything to Rachel he’ll regret later. When Hannah buzzes, he lets her into the building, and then waits by the door to let her into the apartment. 

“Hey, hippo-feet,” Hannah says cheerfully, Stevie behind her. “Eliza in bed?”

“Sound asleep,” Finn says. “She’s like me. She can sleep through anything.”

“Finally.” Rachel glares at Hannah, then at Finn, before giving Stevie a brief glare. “He looks like Sam Evans.”

“Weird, right?” Finn says, winking at Hannah over Rachel’s head. “I’m going to get your bag and we’ll go get a taxi.”

“Time for vegan baking,” Hannah says to Stevie, who looks like he’s about to start laughing, and she drags him to the kitchen. 

“Did you have your taxi wait?” Rachel calls after Hannah.

“Sorry, didn’t think about it!”

“It’s fine,” Finn reassure everyone, not that Hannah or Stevie looked all that worried. “We’ll get one. I’m big. Taxis notice me.” He goes into the bedroom to retrieve Rachel’s suitcase, then holds the apartment door open for her without a word. Rachel’s nostrils flare and she walks out, rolling her eyes. In the elevator on the way down, she does more loud huffy breathing, and she grabs her belly dramatically when they walk onto the street. 

“Don’t worry. If you give birth in the cab, I’ll be ready,” Finn says, waving his arm to flag a taxi. “I read all about that emergency birth stuff this time.”

“I am _not_ giving birth in a cab!” Rachel screeches.

“The cabbie’ll probably appreciate that,” Finn says.

“I loathe you,” Rachel hisses as a cab stops. 

“I’m shocked,” Finn mutters to himself. He opens the cab door for Rachel and lets her haul herself inside before getting in himself and directing the cabbie to the birth center. Rachel spends the short ride huffing and puffing like she’s considering blowing someone’s house down; Finn spends the ride checking his phone and sending texts to a few people.

“Did you call the midwives’ office?” Rachel demands when they arrive at the hospital. 

“I called or texted everybody,” Finn says. 

“Including my dads?” Rachel heaves herself out of the cab. “I don’t know when they’ll be back. Hopefully for the simchat bat.”

“Oh. I guess I didn’t text _everybody_.”

Rachel inhales like she’s about to start yelling, but then does her loud breathing instead, gesturing to Finn’s phone with one arm. Finn’s pretty sure that means he’s supposed to text her dads, but instead he looks over the admission paperwork, sneaking occasional glances at the door for Kurt and Puck.

“Why is that baby here?” Rachel says suddenly from the chair she’s sitting in. “Finn!”

Finn looks in the direction Rachel’s looking, and sees Puck, Kurt, and Harvey, who is on Kurt’s back in the carrier. Finn smiles at them, and answers Rachel, “He’s here for Charlotte.”

“He’s a baby!” Rachel scowls at Finn and then in Kurt’s direction before starting her breathing as a nurse with a wheelchair approaches. 

“He’s _family_ ,” Finn says. “He’s excited.”

“Hey,” Puck says as they get closer. “Hannah make it down from the far reaches of the Bronx?”

“She and _Stevie_ made it,” Finn says. He pulls Puck into a hug and then does the same to Kurt, blowing a raspberry on Harvey’s cheek. 

“Shut up,” Puck grumbles half-heartedly as Harvey laughs. 

“Excuse me!” Rachel says loudly. 

“Not you,” Finn tosses over his shoulder.

“I think she wants us to follow her upstairs. Or at least note she’s going upstairs,” Kurt says quietly, almost laughing. 

“Oh. Sorry, Rachel,” Finn says, not actually sounding or feeling that sorry. “Let’s go get this baby show on the road!”

 

“Thankfully, the Berrys went home,” Noah says to Kurt as they stand in the waiting area. “No one’s around to light the candles or whatever this time.” They had decided that Rachel was less likely to argue about who was in the room if they waited to go in while she was pushing, which means the three of them are spending quality time with the vending machines and the evening news. Harvey isn’t particularly interested in any of those, except for the empty wrappers. 

“It still smells the same as last time. The entire Birth Center, I mean. Maybe they did start spraying the stuff for the women,” Kurt says thoughtfully. “But yes. Thank god they aren’t here. I don’t know if Finn let Dad and Carole know, but we can call them later.”

“Yeah, the longer we can delay the Lima contingent, the happier everyone but Rachel will be.” Noah laughs briefly. “Papers still in the diaper bag?”

“Hopefully we don’t need them, but yes. Want me to take him again?”

Noah shrugs. “Let’s wait for the inevitable crying-induced switch. Though, he’s been pretty happy tonight.”

“He’s waiting on his sister,” Kurt says with a grin. 

“That it, Harv?” Noah asks him. “Waiting to meet her makes you happy?” Harvey doesn’t look up from his contemplation of the blue wrapper, and Noah shrugs again. “Seems like it’s either her or the candy wrappers.”

Finn appears in the waiting room, looking somewhere between excited and anxious. “Hey. You guys have all the papers ready, right? ’Cause she’s starting to push.”

“It’s time, Harv,” Noah says to Harvey, and Kurt nods at Finn. 

“Everything’s right here,” Kurt says, picking up the diaper bag. “Is she involved enough not to notice us?”

“It’s Rachel,” Finn says simply. 

“I’ll bring the snare drum, too, then,” Noah says wryly, following Finn down the hall. Rachel isn’t screaming, but she’s just _loud_ , lying back and contorting her face. Kurt and Noah press against the wall, unnoticed by Rachel and barely acknowledged by the attending midwife. 

“We see hair!” the midwife says happily. “Oh, it’s blonde! Do you want a mirror?”

Rachel grimaces and shakes her head. “No! No mirror.” She apparently has a break from pushing, because she looks at Finn and narrows her eyes. “It’s good she’ll apparently look so much like her father, don’t you think, Finn?”

“Doesn’t matter to me what she looks like,” Finn says, almost placidly. “I just can’t wait to meet my daughter.”

“Guess she never paid attention when Carole showed her pictures of Christopher,” Kurt mutters to Noah. “Blonde doesn’t say anything.”  
“No,” Noah agrees. “She’s coming, Harv.” Harvey does seem pretty transfixed by the entire thing, almost silent and completely still as he stares towards Rachel. 

The midwife coaches Rachel through the rest of the pushing, and Noah’s not sure if Finn had talked to the midwife or she’s just perceptive, because once she’s caught Charlotte, she hands her straight to Finn. The baby starts to cry, and Harvey squeaks, suddenly flailing excitedly. 

“Yeah, there she is,” Noah laughs. 

“Dad can hand you the baby in just a second?” the midwife says to Rachel, but Rachel shakes her head. 

“In a minute.”

“Hey, Charlotte,” Finn says to Charlotte. “Hey there, Charlie Rose.”

“I never agreed to that name,” Rachel says.

“I don’t care what you agreed to,” Finn answers, still smiling down at Charlotte. “That’s her name, and if you want to keep living the life you enjoy, that’ll stay her name.”

Rachel scowls and acts like she’s going to say something else, but the midwife and the nurse have her shift positions to do something, and she stays quiet. Noah shifts Harvey’s weight as they step over to Finn, peering at the baby. Harvey gets excited again, and Kurt starts to laugh. 

“Oh, Rachel,” he says sweetly. “It is good that Charlotte looks so much like her father. I can’t see a bit of Berry in her right now.”

Rachel looks confused, and Noah laughs too. Charlie’s practically a carbon copy of Finn, especially Finn’s baby pictures. “Yeah, she does. Hey, Charlie. This is Harvey. He’s pretty excited to meet you.”

Finn holds Charlie up, still cradled in his arms, so she’s just within Harvey’s reach. Harvey reaches out, patting her. “See, Charlie? Your Harvey’s saying hi to you,” Finn says. Charlie crinkles her eyes partly closed, the ghost of a smile on her face. “Aw, you see that, guys? She’s smiling!”

“Well, what’s there to complain about?” Kurt says almost whimsically. “Oh, she made it before midnight. December eleventh.”

“Yeah, you don’t need those papers, Finn,” Noah says quietly, looking closely at Charlie again. “Congratulations.”

“We’ll still do the swab, just to be on the safe side,” Finn says, also keeping his voice low. “But she’s mine. She was mine either way." 

“Of course she was.” Kurt looks over his shoulder at Rachel and the medical staff. “I suppose we shouldn’t try to escape with her regardless, though.”

“Don’t worry,” Finn says. “I won’t let her take Charlotte away from me. Not that I think she even really cares, honestly.”

“I just meant escape the room,” Kurt admits. “She is planning on nursing her?”

“Yeah, she says she is,” Finn says, shrugging. 

“Hi, Charlie,” Kurt says softly, running a finger across her forehead. “We’ll let you eat soon. It’s good to see you finally.”

“If Harv doesn’t steal her,” Noah says, gesturing to the hold Harvey has on the bottom of Charlie’s blanket. “We may have miscalculated. I think he thinks he gets to take her with him.”

Finn laughs faintly. “Maybe someday soon, Harvey,” he says. 

“Do you want us to make the necessary calls in a bit?” Kurt asks. 

“Yeah, that’ll be great. Though, if you want to wait a little while to call the Berrys, that’s fine, too,” Finn says. He looks down at Charlie again and shakes his head. “Three kids, guys. That’s a lot of kids.”

Noah laughs. “We’re not outnumbered.”


End file.
